All Novel

The Crown Prince fell in love with the Mute Girl who saved him and insisted on breaking off our engagement.

Out of kindness, I advised him:

“The Mute Girl is alone and without support. Why not take her as a concubine first?”

The Mute Girl felt humiliated and, overwhelmed by shame and anger, took her own life.

Ten years later, the first thing the Crown Prince did after securing the throne was to depose me as Empress and exterminate my entire clan.

“This is what you all owe Ruoruo.”

When I awoke again, it was the day of my sixteenth Birthday Banquet.

The person seated at the head of the table asked me what I wished for.

“I only wish for Your Highness the Crown Prince and Miss Liu… to grow old together in harmony, forever united in heart.”

I bowed reverently:

“Your Majesty, please bestow a marriage upon the two of them!”

I found the secret crush diary of the gloomy top student.

[Today was the physics final. Rice Ball Classmate sat right in front of me. Her neck is so long and white; I really want to grab it and kiss her.]

[I dreamed about her dancing last night. Can I just lock her up and make her dance for me alone?]

[Rice Ball Classmate came to ask me a question today. Her hair kept brushing against my arm. It was so itchy I almost lost control.]

[That guy from the next class keeps coming to see her, and she actually smiles at him. I really want to dispose of his body and then lock her away.]

[I accidentally picked up Rice Ball Classmate and brought her home. I’m holding back so much I’m going crazy.]

[Saw Rice Ball Classmate eating ice cream. I’m using my mind to soul-travel into that ice cream.]

Reading this diary made my face flush and my heart race. I quickly put it back where I found it.

That top student usually looks so cold and aloof, like he has no desires. Who would have thought he was such a pervert behind closed doors?

This Rice Ball Classmate is way too pitiful.

Even after I returned to my seat, my heart was still pounding with lingering fear.

Just then, the top student, Shi Jianjin, walked over. “Meng, I bought an extra rice ball. Here, it’s for you.”

Huh?

Seeing my confused expression, Shi Jianjin casually flicked my forehead. “Don’t you always eat rice balls? Rice Ball Classmate.”

Rice Ball Classmate?

Me: ???

When I was a child, my father once gave me a ten-yuan bill as pocket money.

He said he had picked it up on the road.

I remember very clearly that on the back of that bill, written in black ink, was a line:

“There is a pyramid scheme on the fifth floor. Help.”

I took the money to show my father, and he smiled and told me,

“Who knows how many people have used this bill? Who knows when those words were written? Maybe the person who wrote them has already been rescued.”

I was in a hurry to buy chocolate, so I didn’t think much about it.

Because chocolate is sweet, after all.

Not long after, there was a piece of news on TV.

“A man mistakenly entered a pyramid scheme den, was beaten to death, and then dismembered.”

As a child, I stared blankly at the television.

My father also stared blankly at the television.

I asked him what was wrong.

He shouted at me angrily, telling me not to meddle in his business, and then left the house.

At the time, I didn’t know what was going on; I just felt confused.

It wasn’t until the New Year, at the family dinner, that my father got drunk and cried uncontrollably. In front of all the relatives, he confessed to picking up that bill.

The place where he found the money was directly below the den mentioned in the news.

In other words, the words on that ten-yuan bill were very likely written by someone who had fallen into that pyramid scheme, possibly even the person who was dismembered.

He sobbed, clutching a bottle of liquor, saying that it was his fault that the man died. The whole family comforted him, but I just stood aside, dumbfounded and at a loss.

So… I used that money to buy chocolate…

Something indescribable seemed to awaken within me.

Throughout my later life, I would often think of that ten-yuan bill.

I wondered, was the original owner of that money alright? Was he really rescued? Or… did that money really come from the man who was dismembered?

If it really came from him, he must have endured painful beatings and inhuman torture before finally seizing a chance one day to write those words for help on the bill and toss it out the window.

He must have clung to hope for rescue until the very moment he died.

Yet my father ignored that hope.

I always ask myself, if I had been the first to find that bill, could I have saved him? Or would I have overlooked the writing, just like my father?

This thought haunts me like a ghost, tormenting my mind more and more as I grow older.

Until that day.

A new “bill” appeared before me.

…

I committed suicide.

On New Year’s Eve, when families gather together.

But I never expected that my ex-husband, who had always been indifferent to me, would go mad with revenge against those who treated me badly after my death.

He even wanted to die for me.

Yet when I was alive, he clearly didn’t love me.

I found a bottle of women’s lubricant in my husband’s bag.

I didn’t argue or make a scene.

I quietly replaced it with a bottle of 502 super glue.

At 2 a.m., the new postpartum nanny was taken to the emergency room.

Zhou Ci and I were also a pair of resentful lovers, exchanging harsh words and blows, finally threatening, “Whoever doesn’t get divorced is a dog.”

On the way to the divorce, we cursed each other with the most venomous words we could muster.

But when the oil tanker crashed towards us, he jerked the steering wheel, using his side to take the impact.

He let me live 0.01 seconds longer.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back in the summer at the end of my second year of high school.

Zhou Ciye was holding a bouquet of flowers, asking if I would accept it.

The next second, his listless face lifted, full of gloom.

The moment our eyes met, I knew he had come back too.

When Nie Feng and I were about to file for divorce, he was in a car accident and lost his memory.

His memory was stuck eight years in the past.

Eight years ago, he loved me the most.

Ten years after graduation, at a class reunion in Beijing, I saw him again.

Among a group of male classmates nearing thirty and starting to put on a bit of weight, he still looked as young and handsome as ever.

We sat far apart at the table and didn’t exchange a single word.

When the reunion ended, a light rain began to fall, and I hurried to leave.

To my surprise, he stopped my car.

“Xiao Shan.” His eyes were just as clear and transparent as they had always been.

Perhaps it was because of the rain, but there seemed to be a faint hint of urgency in his voice.

“Could you… give me a lift?”

At our wedding, I whispered something in my husband’s ear.

Upon hearing it, he suffered a total breakdown and leaped to his death right then and there.

After he died, countless people-including the police-asked me what I had said.

I remained silent.

Five years later, while I was living in poverty, someone tracked me down. They offered a massive reward, wanting to buy those words from me.

He wanted to know exactly what kind of sentence could kill a man.

In that moment, I was overcome with excitement.

The person I had been waiting for had finally arrived.