Unrequited Love

On the day I confessed to my crush, I suddenly discovered that I was just cannon fodder in a novel.

A sudden System notification informed me that the man standing before me was the Male Lead.

The plot was about to kick off, and the Female Lead would soon be making her grand entrance.

It was destiny; I was fated to be nothing more than a background character.

Suddenly, my rebellious streak flared up.

Before anyone could react, I leaned in and planted a loud kiss right on the Male Lead’s cheek.

Both the System and the Male Lead were frozen in shock.

It was the eighth year of my unrequited love for Shen Sui, and he still refused to acknowledge me as his fiancée.

He had me pulled from the red carpet just to please his Little Canary.

In front of the media, the same mouth that had kissed me a thousand times claimed that we were nothing more than ordinary friends.

Later, I looked him in the eye and said seriously:

“Don’t pull away. Otherwise, we won’t look like ordinary friends.”

His eyes rimmed with red, and his voice trembled as he spoke:

“I’m just an ‘ordinary friend’ to you?”

Rumor had it that a woman bearing a Lotus Birthmark would become a femme fatale, a harbinger of war and destruction.

Upon hearing this, the Imperial Consort immediately dispatched her people to scour the countryside, intent on strangling this threat in its cradle.

When the news reached Jiangling City, Miss Song was consumed by terror.

She bore a Lotus Birthmark on her own body. If the Imperial Consort’s men found her, she knew she wouldn’t survive.

To save her, her lover decided to find another woman and brand a Lotus Birthmark onto her back, sending her into the palace to take Miss Song’s place.

It was a perilous mission. Even with the promise of a massive reward, there were few takers.

That was until I accepted the post in the Ghost Market.

“I’ll go.”

In 2004, he used my body to pay off his gambling debts.

I didn’t blame him.

I only remembered that clean-cut nineteen-year-old boy back in 1997, and the purity in his eyes when he handed me a White Rabbit Milk Candy.

Later, he became successful.

He replaced the faded fake around my neck with a heavy gold chain.

He used a three-carat diamond ring to buy my silence regarding the women he kept on the side.

Later, when a business partner groped my thigh, he simply turned his head away to light a cigarette. “It’s not like you’re losing a limb.”

I dragged my suitcase into the rain and never looked back.

After that, I went on blind dates, got married, and spent my days in a cubicle, studying for certifications and working overtime.

He eventually found me, looking like a gambler who had lost everything, his eyes terrifyingly bloodshot. “Since you’re willing to marry just anyone from a blind date… then, why couldn’t that person be me?”

I smiled.

Elder Brother, I never wanted any of those things.

I only wanted that summer in 1997, before that piece of candy had even melted in my palm.

I have become my own shore; no one can push me into the sea ever again.

I was known for being a good girl. During our five years together, no matter how Liang Yansheng played around behind my back, I obediently endured it all.

Until that day, when I found a pair of stockings and a set of lingerie in his hotel suite that didn’t belong to me.

He didn’t show a hint of guilt at being caught. Instead, he just gave a lazy smile. “Be a good girl and go check out of the room for me.”

His friends were all placing bets on how long I could hold out this time.

Liang Yansheng rested his chin on his hand, sounding indifferent. “She’s such a good girl. She’ll settle down in a couple of days.”

He expected me to be just like before, begging him with puppy-dog eyes not to leave.

What Liang Yansheng didn’t know was that once a good girl like me reaches marriageable age, we always listen to our parents.

And so, while he was riding high on his own arrogance, I gathered my courage and asked the handsome man at my blind date: “If the child takes my last name, can you accept that?”

I’ve read so many novels about the “crematorium” trope-where the husband has to crawl back and beg for forgiveness-but I never expected to find myself starring in one.

Except there’s no chasing, only the crematorium.

Because I’m actually dead.

I’ve become a ghost, watching the man who betrayed me. Seven days after my death, he finally seems crushed by a delayed sense of grief. In the home I can never return to, he howls in agony, acting as if life is no longer worth living.

You want to know how I feel?

I just stand there blankly, carefully admiring every inch of pain etched onto his face.

I listen intently to his desperate wails, triggered by my departure.

Beyond the desolation and heartache in my soul, a massive wave of schadenfreude suddenly wells up within me.

A joyful, blissful sense of schadenfreude.

It’s a sensation so sharp it borders on thrill. I cover my mouth and begin to laugh.

In the third year of my secret crush on Zhou Jinghe, we got married. A year later, at a ski resort, his close friend and I both found ourselves in danger at the same time. Zhou Jinghe rushed over, shielding that female friend as they tumbled to the ground. As I fell onto the snow, I suddenly felt that everything was utterly meaningless. And when something is meaningless, it should simply be thrown away.

It was the fifth year of our engagement, and Meng Cijun still refused to marry me.

The first time he turned me down, he said the King was placing great importance on him, so how could he indulge in the trivialities of love?

That made sense, so I nodded and waited another two years.

The second time he turned me down, he said that since the King had yet to choose a Queen, how could a mere subject like him marry first?

That made me angry. I felt the King was being completely unreasonable-I had waited so long that I was practically an old maid, yet he still wouldn’t allow Meng Cijun to marry me?

Meng Cijun and I had a fight. In a fit of pique, I left home, only to rescue a palace official who was trying to end his life by the river.

One of the girls selected for the draft had run away, and Wang Shiguan was so distressed he was ready to jump into the water.

“If I enter the palace, will I be able to see the King?”

Wang Shiguan looked at my hair, which was not yet pinned up in the style of a married woman, and my youthful face. He nodded with delight.

“Of course! If you find favor, you’ll see the King every single night!”

“Alright then,” I said, nodding as I gathered my skirts and stepped into the carriage.

Once I saw that King, I intended to ask him exactly why he wouldn’t let Meng Cijun marry me.

“Miss, if you leave, how am I supposed to explain this to Master Meng?” Xiao Tao asked, panicked.

I thought about it for a moment, then pulled back the curtain and waved a hand.

“Just tell Meng Cijun that Ah Wu is still mad at him and won’t be coming home for dinner tonight!”

Zhou Xingzhi was disfigured while saving the woman he truly loved. In the hospital, I cried my heart out, my sobs echoing through the halls.

I kept pestering the doctor, asking over and over if his face could be fixed.

Everyone thought I was hopelessly in love with him.

Only Zhou Xingzhi’s younger brother handed me a tissue, a smirk playing on his lips. “Sister-in-law, my brother’s face is beyond saving.” “You might as well choose me instead. After all, my face looks much more like Wei Qiao’s now than my brother’s does.”

Three years after Lin Wan’s death, I found the record of her seven years of love for me tucked away in an old cardboard box.

The last page still carried the smell of medicine, where she asked if, in the next life, I could be the one to love her first. That night, I finally understood that the cruelest thing I had ever done was to let someone waste away to death without ever once looking back at her.