All Novel

My first love, a man who had clawed his way out of poverty, murdered me.

Then I was reborn inside his beautiful, wealthy wife’s womb.

If nothing went wrong, once I survived the pregnancy, that bastard would lift me tenderly into his arms and say, “Look at this little darling.

Daddy’s sweetheart from a past life.”

That’s right.

I was your sweetheart.

And I’ve come to collect.

When I was twenty-five, I had a child with one of the most powerful heirs in Beijing’s elite circle.

There was no future for two people as unequal as us, so I took the money and opportunities the He family offered and broke up with him.

Then, five years later, during a break on set.

A little boy who looked strikingly like He Jinnan came looking for me.

He pursed his lips, aggrieved yet stubbornly proud.

“My dad is He Jinnan,” he said.

“And you’re my mom.”

I looked at him and gave a faint hum of acknowledgment.

He hurriedly pulled a thick wad of cash from his backpack.

His eyes were full of pleading.

“Can I hire you for one day to come to my parent-teacher meeting?”

After eight years in a nunnery, I received a cup of poisoned wine from my twin sister.

Her face was full of contempt.

“You live in a nunnery, yet you bed His Majesty every night.

Have you no shame?”

“Tomorrow, His Majesty means to bring you back to the palace.

Someone as lowly as you has no business being a Noble Consort.

Let your elder sister take that place.”

Smiling, I drank the poison and watched her step over my corpse to board the phoenix palanquin bound for the palace.

What she did not know was that being summoned to his bed at any hour, in any place, was worse than death.

Our youngest sister had the part of the girl everyone adored.

My master and all six of my fellow male disciples were destined to cherish her as dearly as their own lives.

I was the vicious supporting character.

I would fight her for magical treasures and men, frame her, humiliate her, and bully her.

In the end, my master would rip out my immortal bones, my senior brother would cut out my immortal core, and my junior brothers would throw me into a demon pit to be tortured to death.

But after I fell into the Waters of Sin, I woke up to the truth.

Instead of storming back to our sect to confront her, as the story demanded, I took on six female disciples on my master’s behalf, all in one go.

Every one of them was beautiful, lively, and quick-witted.

I brought them back to the sect.

Our youngest sister became Eighth Sister.

I was a terrible stickler for the truth.

When my husband returned from war, he brought a woman home.

The moment she saw me, she dropped to her knees and declared that she wanted to marry the marquis, even if she could only be his concubine.

I said nothing at the time.

But after tossing and turning until midnight, I could bear it no longer and knocked on her door.

My husband wasn’t the marquis.

The marquis in this household was my widowed father-in-law; my husband was only his third son, born to a concubine.

Her dimming eyes suddenly lit up at the word widowed.

After my childhood friend and I registered our marriage, his kept woman sneered at me.

“He doesn’t love you.

This is just an arranged marriage!”

I was speechless.

“It’s a business alliance.

Could you sound any more provincial?”

In this day and age, who worried about love in a marriage like ours?

The only use I had for her sugar daddy was to give me an heir carrying both families’ blood as soon as possible.

As for the man himself, I doubted even our housekeeper, Mrs.

Wu, wanted him home.

My mother was exquisitely beautiful.

But during the years my father studied abroad, another man kept her in his power and abused her.

On the day Father returned, he stumbled upon what was happening.

I thought he would be horrified.

Furious.

Instead, he merely closed the bedroom door.

And heartlessly shut my mother inside with her humiliation and her tears.

I had been the most pampered princess since childhood, yet everyone called me brutal, cold, inhuman.

Even my younger brother, now emperor, had slowly begun to distance himself from me.

He said he had found his real elder sister.

I smiled at Princess Ronghua.

She did bear a certain resemblance to my imperial brother.

Indeed.

A pair of bastards passing themselves off as imperial blood.

When Jiang Zhiqing begs a feared commander to save her imprisoned fiancé, mysterious scrolling comments reveal the betrayal and brutal death awaiting her.

Her dwindling Fortune score is binding her to a story that was never written for her to win.

Lu Hemian, the man she has always avoided, can keep that score from falling—and once gave his life to save hers.

To escape the plot for good, Zhiqing must reclaim her family’s military legacy and become the heroine of her own life.

I’d transmigrated into the role of an overpowered hero’s spoiled fiancé.

A spoiled fiancé riddled with poison, with only three years left to live.

The system told me: [Host, your mission is to play the spoiled brat.

Make the protagonist’s life difficult and toughen him up mentally.]

[When the poison kills you, you’ll receive a generous reward~] [Friendly reminder: you’re not allowed to seriously harm the protagonist.

The system will stop you.]

In other words, I was supposed to light a fire under him without actually burning him.

So I threw tantrums every day.

“I want that merfolk pearl.

It matches my clothes.”

“What did I do in my past eight lives to deserve a penniless fiancé like you?”

“Your life’s ambition should be to keep me in comfort!”

Three years later, the hero had made a name for himself.

I lay back and waited to die.

The system screamed.

[Host!

Where did all your poison go?!]