All Novel

I once saved a pregnant noblewoman. She smiled and told me that once the child was born, they would recognize me as their godmother.

But later, as I led my troops to station at the border, we gradually lost touch.

Until one day, eight years later, my subordinates reported that someone had come all the way from Jinling, specifically asking to see me by name.

“Who is it?” I asked as I walked toward the entrance.

There, I saw a young girl sitting atop a pony, threatening the group of soldiers surrounding her.

“Song Yunying is my mother! If you dare bully me, you’re all finished!”

I am Song Yunying.

My husband had an affair with the Married Woman downstairs.

I hid in the hallway, smoking with the Married Woman’s husband.

We didn’t dare return until they’d finished.

Later, they became even more brazen.

The Married Woman’s husband said, “I’m going to catch them in the act. What about you?”

I kept nibbling on my skewer, unconcerned.

“You go catch them, I’ll come too!”

In my previous life, a woman armed with a conquest system won over my parents, my brothers, and my fiance one after another.

They adored her, indulged her, and let everything go her way until she stood at the height of favor.

As for me, everyone despised me.

I was imprisoned in a secluded palace alley for life, forbidden to take even half a step beyond its gates.

Only after I died did I learn that she had come from another world, and that every bit of my suffering fed her luck. Reborn, I traded away a lifetime of love for a single wish.

The Bodhisattva asked me, “What do you want?”

I whispered, “I want everyone she targets to know that she is here only to conquer them.”

And from that moment on, they could all hear her conquest alerts.

My lady was injured and lost her memory. She forgot everyone, yet she remembered my husband.

My husband was once a beggar.

During a heavy winter snowfall, he lay by the roadside, covered in blood and filth.

Passersby all steered clear of him, but my lady alone ordered her carriage to stop and took him in.

From then on, he stayed in the manor to tend the horses for her.

My lady often visited him under the pretext of checking on the horses.

I saw the deep, lingering affection in their eyes with my own.

But how could a young lady of her status ever marry a horse slave?

Heartbroken, she told him:

“I cannot marry you.

“But I will find someone to take care of you in my stead.”

My lady personally betrothed me to him.

Later, the lowly horse slave found his way back to the imperial capital and reclaimed his identity as a prince.

I, in turn, became his legitimate consort.

On the day of the investiture, I was waiting.

I knew.

Sooner or later, my lady would come back to reclaim what was originally hers.

The emperor died too soon, and I became Empress Dowager at a young age.

To secure my son’s throne, I had no choice but to yield to the Prince Regent and become his illicit lover.

Later, when my son came of age, he finally reclaimed imperial power.

I sent the Prince Regent to the underworld with a cup of poisoned wine.

But I never imagined the Prince Regent had poisoned me as well.

As I coughed up blood in agony, he held me tightly in his arms and laughed madly in my ear: “If we die, we die together. Once we’re dead, we can be reborn together.”

Our blood mingled, and neither of us met a good end.

Before I died, through the haze, I thought: I had been such a pathetic Empress Dowager.

I had never lived a single good day.

If I truly could be reborn, I would stay far, far away from those two: the short-lived ghost and the madman.

But I did not get to be reborn into another life. Instead, I was reborn at the palace banquet where marriages were decreed.

The Crown Prince was about to hand the one and only Phoenix-patterned Jade Pendant to the woman he loved.

His gaze lingered on my face for an instant, as if he had made up his mind to give the pendant to me.

The next moment, I lowered my head and shifted slightly aside, letting him see Song Xiuying behind me clearly.

She was the one who had shared life and death with him in my previous life.

When Wei Zhao married me as his lawful wife, all of Shangjing City laughed.

The once-proud Eldest Young Master of the Wei Family had fallen so low that even a phoenix in decline was no better than a chicken.

In the end, he had only managed to marry a maid who tended the fires and cooked the meals.

Later, when Wei Zhao achieved fame and success, noble ladies from aristocratic families who wished to marry him were too many to count.

So I made an appointment with a well-known matchmaker in the capital, intending to take in two honored concubines for him.

But just as I was about to leave, Wei Zhao, who should have been handling affairs in Yangzhou, blocked me at the front gate.

Travel-worn and furious, he was trembling all over. “Try stepping out of this gate today. I dare you.”

In Jiangnan, the Shen Family possessed a secret technique passed down through generations: the ability to embroider a person’s final appearance before they died.

For thirty years, my father embroidered for the powerful and elite, never once making a mistake.

That was until he died in his embroidery room, and on the Death Portrait before him-depicting a face bleeding from every orifice-was me.

After five years of marrying into my family, my penniless scholar husband passed the imperial exam-and suddenly decided I, his butcher wife, reeked of grease and blood.

For half a month, he hemmed and hawed and refused to do his husbandly duties.

So I used the silver I’d earned selling pork to buy him two ink sticks and a ream of fine paper, then scraped together the last of my coins for a tiny bar of scented soap.

When I made it home through the rain, the big yellow dog under the eaves had one of the meat dumplings I’d wrapped dangling from its mouth.

From inside the house came a coy, wheedling voice.

“Father, the magistrate’s daughter smells so nice. Not like Mother.”

“And these pastries taste better than meat dumplings too.”

I took all the bits and pieces I’d hidden against my chest and threw them out-along with the father and son.

When Zheng Huaishu signed the divorce papers, he held our son in his arms and glared at me with resentment.

All the neighbors in the village laughed at me for letting a future official go.

The very next day, the matchmaker introduced me to a fair, slender stutterer.

A little girl trailed behind him.

Father and daughter gave me timid looks.

I asked irritably, “How often can you do your husbandly duties?”

“And how much meat will you eat in a day?”

The stutterer’s face turned bright red. The matchmaker yanked his clothes down over half his shoulder, and he said in a slow, gentle voice, “As long as my child gets a mouthful of rice… as her father, I’ll do anything…”

Chapter 0

I am the mistress of the Marquis’s Manor, serene and detached as a chrysanthemum.

Aside from me, there are two favored concubines in the household.

As the main wife, my daily duties include chanting sutras in the ancestral hall and mediating the disputes between those two concubines. Among them:

The second, Jiaoniang, was born a courtesan, with a naturally seductive air.

The third, Wenniang, is a sweet girl from a modest family, gentle and understanding.

As for my husband, Marquis Wenchang Gu Jinyan, he is accustomed to sleeping with the second and sharing his heart with the third.

With me, however, things are so tepid we may as well be brother and sister.

On the day we got divorced, Song Zhiyuan and I nearly came to blows right there in the Civil Affairs Bureau. When the clerk asked for the reason behind the split, he had the audacity to claim he had seven girlfriends on the side. I laughed out of sheer frustration. Seven girlfriends? So you really don’t get a single day off all week, huh? I shot him a sideways glare. “Working seven days a week without a break-can your body even handle that?” Song Zhiyuan sneered. “You’re not my wife anymore. It’s none of your business whether I can handle it or not.” Beside us, the clerk actually gave him a thumbs-up. “A real man. Impressive!”