All Novel

The night I was sent into the Royal Palace, snow was falling from the heavens.

One hundred and twenty silver lamps lined the steps, but their wicks were not made of cotton; they were segments of little finger bones coated in white wax.

Everyone said that as long as I sold my last box of matches to the Crown Prince, Baili City would survive this winter.

Only I knew that the flames capable of conjuring the scent of bread, the crackle of a hearth, and the warmth of a grandmother’s smile were not blessings from God.

They were the final dreams of children who had frozen to death in the streets.

Tonight, the Royal Palace was coming for mine.

In my third year as a palace maid, I encountered a child.

Floating above her head were the words: Villainess Supporting Character.

I wondered to myself, just how wicked could a seven-year-old child be?

That was until I saw her shove a palace maid to the ground.

Beat the eunuchs. And ruthlessly berate the head governess.

Only then did I realize she was absolutely right to hit them.

I had been wanting to thrash those people for a long time myself.

This wasn’t some Villainess Supporting Character; this was my angel baby.

Later, she asked me, “Don’t you hate me?”

I replied, “Of course not. I like you as much as there are stars in the sky, grains of sand in the desert, and drops of water in the ocean.”

Blushing yet acting with her usual haughty pride, she tucked her hand into my palm.

“You will attend to me tonight.”

We had been together for three years, yet my girlfriend still couldn’t forget her first love.

There was a locked room in her house-a promise she had kept for him.

As long as he returned, there would always be a place for him in her home.

For his sake, she abandoned me time and time again.

The final time, I left nothing but a single breakup text and vanished without a trace.

Yet, she acted as if she had gone mad, searching the entire world for me.

Eventually, in a cemetery, she finally discovered the truth behind everything.

With bloodshot eyes, she pointed at the person in the black-and-white photograph-someone who bore an eighty percent resemblance to her-and interrogated me.

“Shen Yu, tell me-” “Every time you looked at me, who exactly were you thinking of?”

When Xie Yan was diagnosed with stomach cancer, I was abroad, clearing my head.

He was calling for the hundredth time when my secretary-a man standing six-foot-two-finally picked up the phone.

“Where are you? Who is that with you?” I heard his voice crack over the line, sounding like he was on the verge of a total breakdown.

I couldn’t help but let out a mocking sneer. “Didn’t we agree to stay out of each other’s business? Why are you acting like such a sore loser now?”

[Light Horror + Infidelity + Plot Twists] A beautiful Southern Girl, a knock on the door in the middle of the night, a silent delivery driver, someone crouching under the bed… Qin Song’s life descended into an inescapable hell because of an extramarital affair.

[BL + Narcissus + Power Couple + Infinite Flow + Ensemble Cast + 1v1 + Live Stream]

Ning Shuo was pulled into a horror Murder Mystery Game System.

A Clown wearing a mask of garish greasepaint grinned. [Please choose a codename for yourself.]

Ning Shuo thought for a moment. “Ning Banxian.”

The audience wondered what kind of ridiculous name that was. Did he really think he could swindle those Ghosts and Monsters in a horror game?

That was until they saw Ning Shuo in the Live Stream Room, acting like a mystical charlatan as he told a Ghost, “Tonight at the Hour of the Rat – within half an hour at most – you will surely meet a bloody end.”

The audience waited to see him make a fool of himself. However, at the stroke of midnight, just as the second hand hit zero, a sword pierced the Ghost’s throat.

A man dressed in ancient robes, looking almost identical to Ning Shuo, pointed his sword at him. He raised an eyebrow and asked, “Are you a monster too?”

Ning Shuo smiled. “Perhaps I am another you.”

…

From the first moment he saw Ning Wang, Ning Shuo knew he shared the closest bond in the world with this man – so close that they had once shared the same name:

Xie Ning.

–Warnings–

1. The MC (shou) enjoys acting like a chuunibyou and has poor health. If you don’t like this, please skip.
2. There are no plots where someone’s life is taken just because the MC felt slightly wronged; everything serves the plot. If you don’t like this, please skip.
3. Dual male leads with side pairings. No “crybaby” types here, as the author prefers a power couple dynamic. If you don’t like this, please skip.
4. Includes live stream Danmu. The content of the Danmu does not represent the author’s views, nor do the characters’ thoughts. If you don’t like this, please skip.

On the first day after I died, my boyfriend brought his first love back home.

They kissed passionately on the sofa I bought, acting as if no one else were there. They ate the celery dumplings I had made by hand and played with the gaming console I had given him.

One day, his first love asked curiously, “Where’s An’an?”

My boyfriend’s voice was calm. “We had a fight a few days ago. She applied for a business trip with her company.”

Oh, he still doesn’t know that I’m dead.

In our village, there was an abandoned Brick Kiln rumored to be haunted.

During my first year of middle school, a few classmates and I went to the kiln for an adventure. We unexpectedly stumbled upon a swarm of rats worshipping a wall, all of them throwing themselves against it until they died…

In that moment, I realized there was truly something in that kiln that shouldn’t be provoked.

Unfortunately, it was already too late. From then on, my friends began to die one after another.

Until one night, that thing finally stood at the head of my bed…

Six years after our divorce, I ran into my ex-husband on a street corner while holding my three-year-old daughter.

He stared blankly at the girl in my arms for a long time before knitting his brows. “She’s almost six years old,” he said, his voice laced with accusation. “Why does she look so thin and small?”

Ha!

He actually thought the child I was holding was his.

I suppose he believed I loved him so deeply that even after he cheated and divorced me, I would have gone off and raised his child all on my own.

When I was eighteen, I didn’t dare push open that door. Behind it, my best friend was playing adult games with the male writer I secretly loved.

I remembered that moment for ten long years. In that decade, my friend died, the writer stopped writing, and my life was ruined.

I respectfully composed a letter and mailed it to the man I had once loved from afar: Chen Song.