I transmigrated into the mistress of the Marquis’s Mansion, and my stepson was the devoted second male lead.
When he grew up, he would try to take the female lead by force and spend fortunes on her without blinking.
As for the male lead, he would sow discord, frame him, and set him up at every turn.
In the end, the male and female leads would join forces to defeat him.
He would flee into monastic life and never marry.
And the Marquis’s Mansion, implicated because of him, would be raided, stripped of its title, and tragically exiled.
After transmigrating, I looked at the tiny little thing in front of me, pretending to be obedient.
He wanted to grow gloomy and brooding? Absolutely not.
He was going to become sunny if it killed me. He wanted to squander money?
Absolutely not. I had to raise him into a stingy, family-minded model of virtue.
I was definitely going to protect the vast fortune of the Marquis’s Mansion.
Later, everyone said I threw money around like dirt and lived in arrogant, extravagant luxury.
My stepson refuted them.
“Nonsense. My mother is the most frugal, capable, virtuous, and dignified woman there is. She sponsored so many scholars with money she saved up herself. Could you do that?”
Someone said my methods were ruthless and that I acted like a man.
My stepson’s face turned cold.
“My mother is gentle, virtuous, and the very soul of benevolence. She clearly could have just robbed you outright, yet she still gave you a chance to compete fairly. You’re the one who was useless. Utter trash.”
Even his father couldn’t stand it anymore.
“Son, open your eyes and take a good look. Your mother is not the kind of person who lets herself be wronged.”
My stepson flew into a rage.
“Father, don’t force me to turn against you. You can say whatever you want about me, but you absolutely cannot say that about my mother.”
