All Novel

It was the fourth year of my marriage to my rival Alpha.

He had been in a car accident and lost his memory, with his recollections stopping right before our wedding.

When he saw my wedding ring, his voice was laced with ridicule.

“Who was unlucky enough to marry you?”

Fifteen years after getting married,

My husband suddenly wanted a divorce.

He said women over twenty-five are basically sixty-five.

I’m already thirty-eight. He said I’ve got one foot in the grave.

I was heartbroken.

Every time I thought about a future filled with money but no husband, sadness nearly suffocated me.

My husband found me annoying. He yelled at me.

“Would you seriously die without a man?”

I nodded. “I would.”

“Then just go die.”

I was miserable. I grabbed the 1.5 billion yuan I got in the divorce and ran out, crying.

I didn’t want to die, but I am a traditional woman at heart.

And a traditional woman simply can’t live without a man!

So, clutching all that money, I set out to find a new man.

But now my husband wasn’t happy about that either.

In the wake of a violent storm, a beautiful woman suddenly appeared out of thin air on the Deck of a deep-sea fishing vessel manned entirely by men. When the ship finally returned to shore, only a single madman remained on board.

At 3:00 AM, an official emergency alert jolted you awake. The message read: “Do not look up at the moon.”

At the same time, you discovered that your phone had received hundreds of messages from unknown numbers: “The night is so beautiful. Look out the window.”

The day I was escorted onto the Sacrificial Altar, Emperor Pei Yuheng personally pressed his seal onto the list of my crimes.

The entire court decried me as a Nation-Wrecker Sorceress, yet only I knew that his life was something I had reclaimed from the King of Hell, one blade-stroke at a time.

However, every time I saved him, he would forget a little more of me.

By the end, he couldn’t even remember the lantern he once held when he promised to marry me.

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.

I am a crow, and I was perched in a tree, speaking with a young man-

“…It found a clay jar, but there was too little water inside. So, it picked up stones in its beak and dropped them into the jar until the water rose, and it finally managed to drink. However, once it returned to Penglai Mountain, the clan leader had it burned to death.”

“Why?”

“It was sick. A ‘Crow Plague’ had grown inside its head. That is a type of pestilence from your mortal realm that only we crows can contract.”

“How could they tell it had the Crow Plague?”

“It started dropping stones into jars. It even claimed that the divine bird atop the Fusang Tree looked like it had three legs and fifteen toes.”

“…That Crow Plague you’re talking about? I think it might go by another name in our world.”

“What?”

“Brains.”

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but this card has insufficient funds.”

I froze for a heartbeat before quickly handing over another one.

The red light flashed again.

“I’m sorry, this card is also declined.”

“…What?”

I steadied my breathing and dialed my husband’s number.

“Honey, haven’t you been paid yet? The baby is out of formula.”

His voice through the receiver was devoid of warmth.

“A household isn’t supported by one person alone. I expect you to learn how to be independent instead of living like some pathetic parasite.”

With those words, he declared war.

Fine.

Then let the hunt begin.

My boyfriend insisted on a Platonic relationship, believing that carnal desire was a sin.

Just for trying to kiss him, he sent me away for “spiritual purification.”

The purification worked.

I no longer felt any desire for him.

However, my desire for other men doubled.

Later, as he stared at the hickey on my collarbone, he started acting like a lunatic in public again.

“Must you insist on falling into the abyss of sin?!”

His friend pulled me onto his lap, kissing my hand with a smirk. “I’ve committed a crime. Why don’t you call the police and have me arrested?”

It has been ten years since I died.

After a decade, I have finally seen the first person to come and pay their respects at my grave.

It is a man, limping as he walks toward me.

It is my father.