All Novel

My best friend pinned me against the windowsill when my heat struck without warning.

My whole body went weak, my breaths burning, like a fish dragged onto shore and left gasping for air.

He held my restless body down, a dangerously enticing smile curling at his lips.

“Beg me, and maybe I’ll consider sneaking in a little bite.”

I gazed at him through misty, tear-bright eyes.

“Please~”

The Empress had devised an elegant diversion: if a prince shot down a kite bearing a noblewoman’s name, he could choose her as his consort.

I made a point of running over to remind the Third Prince.

“That huge red butterfly kite is mine.

Don’t mix it up with the others later.”

He grinned and teased me.

“Are you that eager to marry me?”

“Fine.

I’ll think about it.

If I can’t hit anyone else’s, I’ll shoot yours.”

I flushed and spat at him in mock disgust.

“Plenty of men want to marry me.

I’m only afraid you’ll fail to win me and start bawling.”

Pei Qing and I had grown up together, bickering and playing since childhood.

It was the most ordinary kind of banter between us, but I knew he would take my words to heart.

Yet once the contest began, Pei Qing kept aiming at my elder sister’s kite without so much as glancing at mine.

My kite was so conspicuous.

He could not possibly have missed it.

I watched several arrows skim past it.

I grew anxious that someone else might shoot it down.

I had no choice but to let it climb higher and higher, beyond everyone’s reach.

Then, without warning, the string in my hand snapped.

The kite swayed as it fell—and landed on the Crown Prince, who had set his heart on renouncing the world for a Buddhist monastery.

In the twelfth year of her political marriage, Lu Zhuohua’s husband slaps her for the sake of his newest concubine—and the formidable marchioness answers by smashing a bench over his head.

What first looks like another petty battle in a crowded noble household soon exposes a plot involving a staged miscarriage, a powerful young heiress, and a poison meant for Zhuohua and her little daughter.

With her family, her fighters, and twelve years of household authority behind her, Zhuohua decides that if her husband wants her dead, she will simply strike first.

Five years after her elder sister fails to produce an heir, concubine-born Song Yao is forced into the palace as the Song clan’s replacement pawn. With her mother and ailing brother held hostage, she turns the family’s coercion into a weapon, pledging herself to a ruthless emperor while plotting to dismantle the clan that murdered her brothers. In a harem ruled by rival families, every act of devotion is a gambit—and Song Yao intends to survive long enough to claim the board.

Princess Ci’an has loved the frail Shen Yanbai for six years. The day he promises to seek an imperial marriage decree, floating comments reveal that he is destined to fall for another woman. So Ci’an drops his hairpin, changes her groom, and chooses Chi Song—the scandalously healthy, sharp-tongued heir she has secretly watched train. But when the comments’ heroine and male leads refuse to follow the script, Ci’an must decide whose story she intends to live.

At fourteen, Ruan Qingzhu sells herself into the wealthy Jiang household for a few good meals, fully intending to run away. Her extraordinary martial arts soon make her the senior maid and bodyguard of the Jiang family’s spirited eldest young lady, Wanying. When an imperial marriage decree and a northern war threaten Wanying’s future with General Li, Qingzhu must choose between the freedom she once prized and the family she has found.

Ah Shuang transmigrates into an imperial harem as an ordinary palace maid with one mission: lie low until the story ends and earn five million yuan. Unfortunately, every attempt to avoid attention is mistaken for brilliant strategy, propelling her from lowly servant to the most trusted—and misunderstood—woman in the palace. Between feuding consorts, ambitious princes, accidental prophecies, and a return trip she never planned, Ah Shuang must survive the legends everyone else keeps inventing about her.

I went to the hospital and burst into tears in Uncle Tang’s arms—only for Mom to catch us.

I tried to run, but he caught my wrist. “We’re not even related by blood. What are you afraid of?”

Xu Feiyun has spent her life as the obedient maid of the privileged half-sister who taught her to call suffering a blessing.

When that sister stages her death to test her husband’s devotion, Feiyun enters the Shen household as a temporary second wife and quietly turns every piece of the reckless scheme to her own purpose.

Between a frightened child, a husband awakening to the truth, and a family built on buried crimes, Feiyun must decide how much tenderness is real and how much is another weapon.

Her revenge will bring the Xu family to judgment—but true freedom lies beyond vengeance, in the ordinary world someone once taught her she deserved to see.

My elder sister cared more about dignity than anything else.

After our family was stripped of everything, we were sold together to the Red Pavilion as entertainers, and my elder sister, a gifted qin player, declared, “Even if I must sell my art, I will do it with dignity, for my qin is meant for nobles and high officials, not common rabble unworthy of refined music.”

The patron she insulted lunged at her, and I sacrificed my body to preserve her dignity while she went on to become the Red Pavilion’s foremost art courtesan.

When a wealthy merchant took a fancy to her and made her his lawful wife, I begged her to redeem me too, but she only said, “Wait a little longer, and I will take you out once I find a respectable excuse.”

I waited five whole years, until she had become one of the capital’s celebrated noblewomen, yet her rescue never came.

In torn clothes, I stopped her sedan in the street and asked whether she had forgotten her promise.

She looked me over in disgust and said, “I have no sister as disgraceful as you.”

Through my tears, I demanded, “Did I not become this way because of you, and do you truly not understand what I suffered?”

She pouted and replied, “I watched every step that brought you here, so what hardship could possibly excuse you?”

With that one sentence, she turned the whole street against me, and they cursed me as a shameless whore.

Fury overwhelmed my heart, and I died coughing blood.

When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day she refused to play for the patrons.

She was standing there with her neck stiff, arguing with a man.