All Novel

I had been kidnapped. Me-a burly man nearly two meters tall, with a face that made me look like Zhang Fei-had somehow been abducted and dragged deep into the mountains! I woke up briefly during transport. My hands and feet were bound in iron chains as thick as a forearm, and the slightest movement made a tremendous racket. I didn’t stay conscious for long. Soon, I passed out again. When I woke up the next time, I was lying inside a dilapidated wooden hut. The moment my senses began to return, I caught a thick, overwhelming stench.

When I was thirteen, in order to serve the distinguished guest who had come from afar, I smeared lard on the soles of the lead dancer’s shoes, making her slip and embarrass herself on the spot.

After that, the beauty sent to his room became me, just as I had wished.

Yet that impossibly refined nobleman merely looked me over twice, then said a single sentence that left me chilled from head to toe, as if a basin of ice water had been poured over me.

“I saw everything just now.”

I am a mushroom. But my master doesn’t see it that way.

Whenever I tell him I’m a mushroom that gained sentience, he just lets out a long, heavy sigh.

Aside from that, he’s very good to me. He cooks for me, buys me clothes, watches boring arthouse movies with me…

On every late night I spend curled up in the corner, after he gets home from working overtime, he quietly carries me back to bed.

He even told me he wanted to have a child with me. At that, I clutched my stomach and burst out laughing.

“Please. How could a human and a mushroom possibly have a baby?”

We reproduce by spores. Have you never heard of reproductive isolation?

…

Until one day, I stared at the pregnancy test with two bright lines on it and completely short-circuited.

The couple living across from me fought until midnight every single day, while their child wandered around scavenging for trash to eat.

Anyone who dared to give the boy food was met with a barrage of verbal abuse at their doorstep, or even targeted with malicious sexual rumors.

One day, as I was passing through the stairwell, I spotted the boy hiding in a corner, too afraid to look at me. “Hey kid, want something to eat?” I asked.

He claimed he wasn’t hungry, but his stomach was growling like thunder. “Big sister, just leave me alone,” he sobbed. “My mom isn’t a good person.”

I leaned down and looked him in the eye. “Well, neither am I.”

I’m a good-for-nothing.

My husband, on the other hand, is a golden boy who has appeared on the cover of a finance magazine twelve times.

Later, he told me all of those covers had been bought and paid for.

Then, claiming he didn’t want to drag me down, he decisively asked for a divorce.

Wait… did I marry into a fake wealthy family?

The year I turned eighteen, my mother took five taels of silver and married me off to Ji Songzhu, a man infamous far and wide for bringing death to his wives.

Before me, both of his previous wives had died of sudden illness three days before the wedding.

A new junior sister arrived at the Demon-Slaying Bureau.

She was astonishingly talented, with an ethereal beauty that seemed untouched by the mortal world.

Everyone adored her.

Everyone said she was far better than me, her senior sister.

But what I saw was the Red Thread of her fate, tangled beyond repair, every strand of it tied to me.

Later, when my junior sister was wounded by a demon, she chose my fiancé to help purge the poison.

So I threw a demon in with her.

“Trust me, he won’t cut it. This one’s better. Guaranteed to purge the poison.”

When my junior sister came out, she drove her sword straight at me. I let out a soft laugh and caught her blade.

“That’s more like it. Now you finally look like a demon slayer.”

My virginity was sold by my family to a seventy-year-old tycoon for the steep price of one million yuan.

The price was fair, all things considered. After all, I wasn’t just selling my virtue; I was selling my life.

On our wedding night, the old man squeezed my throat and asked, “Do you have any final wishes?”

To stay alive, I told him three stories.

And then, I made a prophecy.

“You will die within my third story.”

After announcing his marriage at a concert, the top-tier singer suddenly broke down in tears.

It was because he had just received news of my death.

Zhou Yan. We met at six and said our goodbyes at twenty-four.

I never had the courage to tell you that I truly, deeply loved you.

My husband jumped from a building and died in a pool of blood.

The police quickly cordoned off the scene.

A few days later, the autopsy report came back: the cause of death was a massive intracranial hemorrhage, and his body bore numerous signs of a struggle.

The police told me he had committed suicide and that there was no killer. I didn’t believe them.