Ranking

In my last life, Xie Wujiu stormed the capital, and blood ran like rivers before the palace gates. In this life, before he could fall into darkness, I forced him into a private school and made him recite The Analects every day.

Only later did I understand: asking a starving person to speak of benevolence and righteousness can itself be cruel.

For three years after I entered the Eastern Palace as a concubine, I had never even seen the Crown Prince.

I took it in stride. After all, I was face-blind.

If I mistook someone else for the Crown Prince and committed a capital offense, I would rather have no favor at all.

But after so long without his favor, even my food, clothing, and daily expenses became a problem.

To live a little better, I simply found three lovers to support me.

Zhang San worked in the Imperial Kitchen and could always bring me plenty of delicious food.

Li Si guarded the Garment Bureau and often sent me beautiful clothes.

As for Wang Wu, he was a skilled craftsman in the workshops. Every time we met, he gave me some clever new toy.

Lately, though, all three of them seemed short on money.

So I began thinking that I should try to please the Crown Prince and ask for some rewards to help support them.

I was a spoiled princess with an elder sister who came from another world.

With her indulgence, I escaped marriage and raised horses on my border fief while she remained at court and shouldered every responsibility.

Then one day, she vanished.

Everyone thought her era was over.

They did not expect the princess they called useless to ride back to the capital overnight and reveal the strength she had hidden for years.

If my sister was gone, how was I supposed to enjoy being useless in peace?

I was the eldest daughter of the family-the one no one favored.

From childhood, I was taught to be composed and proper, to serve as an example for my younger siblings.

And yet my fiancé was stolen away by my seemingly innocent and adorable legitimate younger sister.

My younger brothers remembered none of the good I had done for them. They only resented me for disciplining them too strictly. Even my parents saw me as nothing more than a tool to polish the family name, wholeheartedly taking my legitimate younger sister’s side.

Faced with all this, I spread my hands and gave up. From then on, I refused to involve myself in anything happening in the manor.

I let them flounder through one petty mess after another, gradually falling apart until none of the old warmth remained. Even that innocent and adorable legitimate younger sister, once she lost my support, was no longer the treasure of their hearts.

I am the strongest NPC in a horror game, they call me the Ghost Bride.

I wear a Red Wedding Dress, swaying my crimson nails, wandering freely through the vast ancient mansion, unbound by the rules.

I enjoy watching the terror on the players’ faces and the screams they let out.

Until one day, a middle-aged woman saw my face clearly, neither terrified nor screaming.

She shed tears: “My dear, I am your mother.”

My mom works as a housekeeper for Jiang Chuyi’s family, so I’ve lived in the Jiang Family home since I was little.

Jiang Chuyi is the model student in adults’ eyes.

Top grades, a good personality-he’s a child of heaven.

But the moment he took a knife and slit his own wrist-

I was the only one who saw it.

In the eighteenth year after I transmigrated, I finally became a proper maidservant.

When Old Madam and Second Master quarreled, I was the one who stepped in to smooth things over.

I knelt on the floor, clinging to Second Master’s leg, and begged him not to say things in anger.

Second Master pinched my chin and sneered. “I know Third Brother has his eye on you. But I insist on making you my concubine. Even if he finds out, what of it?”

Of course Third Master would not do anything to Second Master.

He would only kill me without a word.

I belonged to Third Master. He would rather have me dead than defiled.

In their eyes, I was a maidservant, a plaything to be fought over and snatched around.

My family had three daughters, each lovelier than the last.

When we came of marriageable age, suitors nearly wore our threshold smooth.

Even the Emperor decided to interfere.

He insisted that one of us marry the great general, Xie Yuan.

Father and Mother could do nothing but sigh.

My two elder sisters exchanged uneasy looks, so I rose with righteous resolve.

“What’s there to worry about? Marrying a general would be glorious, and I might even get to ride a great stallion!”

“If neither of you will marry him, I will.”

Later, Xie Yuan pinned me in his arms and coaxed me again and again:

“Are you shirking again, Mianmian? Why won’t you ride your great stallion tonight?”

After the Qin Family was confiscated, Qin Shuyu’s place as Crown Princess fell to me.

The Crown Prince could not bear to see his childhood sweetheart reduced to an official courtesan. After much maneuvering on his part, Qin Shuyu transformed overnight into a maid in the Crown Prince’s study, serving him with sleeves of red and the scent of ink.

As his lawful wife, I naturally had the magnanimity to tolerate others. I had no intention of making things difficult for her.

But on the night of our wedding, just as the Crown Prince was about to consummate the marriage with me, a bleak, mournful flute melody suddenly sounded outside the hall.

When the song ended, Qin Shuyu’s shattered voice drifted in after it:

“The past is a heartbroken poem; I pine for you, my lord, yet you never know.”

Under the short video I posted, a girl tagged her boyfriend to come watch.

“Everyone move, my husband likes this kind of thing. Let him see it first!”

I tapped into her profile picture and froze.

She was the girl who had bullied me in high school.

I would know that face even if it were reduced to ashes.

I didn’t sleep all night. I went through every video she’d ever posted, then tapped on the boyfriend she’d tagged.

I sent him a private message.

“Are you there?”

“I’m going to be the Empress someday!”

Ten-year-old Song Weiwei stood on a dirt slope facing the imperial city in the distance, shouting those words with all the swagger she could muster.

As for me, I sat on a dirt mound with my chin propped in my hand, speechless.

“Song Weiwei, you still haven’t paid back the two copper coins you owe me.”

Song Weiwei turned around and rapped me on the forehead.

“What’s the rush? Have you ever seen an Empress who welshes on her debts?”

She hopped down from the slope and turned to coax me.

“Just think about it, Du Zeyi. If I become the Empress, you’d be my sister. You can have anything you want. Why worry about those two copper coins?”

As if becoming the Empress of a nation could be that easy.

I muttered under my breath, rubbed my forehead, and raised my voice. “My mother’s calling me home for dinner!”

Then I slipped away as fast as I could.

Leaving only Song Weiwei behind, stamping her feet in exasperation.

The world is one giant slapdash production, and I somehow drift through it anyway.

My father is a financial tycoon, but I can barely handle addition and subtraction under ten. My mother is a gorgeous award-winning actress, while I look perfectly ordinary. My brother held his first solo art exhibition at four, while at five I was still toddling after him babbling nonsense.

Even our maid, Wang Ma, and our butler, Uncle Chen, turned out to be retired legends hiding in plain sight.

Thankfully, all of them adored me. I slowly made peace with being ordinary.

Then one day, a genius girl who had gone viral online showed up at our door and demanded that I give her back her place as the real daughter of the Su family.

Wonderful. The worry that had been hanging over me for years finally dropped dead.

I was fighting someone in the street when Young Madam took a liking to me on the spot.

She gave me fifty taels of silver and asked if I was willing to become her husband’s concubine.

They say a debt of recognition should be repaid with one’s body. Fair enough.

But was this really the way to repay it?

Still, I was desperately short on silver, so I gritted my teeth and agreed.

Only after entering the manor did I learn that my husband was introverted, my mother-in-law was tyrannical, and my sister-in-law was insufferably arrogant.

Young Madam hadn’t bought me back to serve anyone at all.

She had brought me into this family to be King Yan.

My young mistress was a transmigrator.

She declared arranged marriage unacceptable and ruined the match between me and the childhood sweetheart I had hoped to marry.

Then she insisted that women should not be trapped inside the home and forced me to enlist with her.

We became separated from our unit and stranded in a vast desert without water.

I risked my life to obtain two barrels of water from desert bandits and repeatedly warned her to ration it.

While I slept, she used every drop to wash her hair and bathe.

I died of thirst, while she emerged spotless and was rescued by the passing Crown Prince.

When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day she first tried to persuade me to enlist.

In a secret chamber beneath my imperial father’s former residence, I found a breathtaking woman who claimed to be my birth mother.

She told me my true father was the deposed crown prince who had died long ago in the old capital.

The realm, she said, should have been mine.

But when I finally took the throne, she went mad.

On our wedding night, my husband told me something plainly.

His heart belonged to Concubine Song, and there could never be anything between him and me.

I was not to use my position as the lady of the household to make Concubine Song’s life difficult.

Furious, I tore off my bridal veil and gave him two choices.

Either we went to his parents together and asked what exactly they meant by arranging this marriage.

Or he brought Concubine Song to me so the three of us could settle matters face-to-face.

He feared I would bully his beloved concubine, while I feared she would use his favor to humiliate his lawful wife.

After a brief hesitation, my husband chose to summon her.

The three of us sat down and agreed on three rules.

First, Concubine Song was never to set foot in my main courtyard, and anything that happened if she did would be her own responsibility; the same rule applied to me.

Second, since my husband refused to consummate our marriage that night, we would never share a bed for the rest of our lives.

Third, if his parents pressed us for an heir, he would deal with them, and if I suffered punishment or loss because of it, he would compensate me.

My husband’s face turned glacial as he signed the agreement in a fury.

From that day on, he never entered my room again.

Concubine Song basked in her victory and laughed at me for giving up the finest man in the world.

The two of them settled into their sweet little romance.

I was too busy building a life of my own to spare them a thought.

But three years later, my husband stepped into my courtyard with an uneasy look on his face.

I knew at once that he regretted everything-and that he wanted to sleep with me.

I said calmly, “Let’s divorce.”

I stole my sister’s man.

During the year she was abroad, the man she’d been longing for all these years came to me with her photo in hand.

“Do you know the girl in this photo?”

I took off my mask, revealing a face identical to my sister’s, and smiled sweetly.

“Are you looking for me?”

My rich-girl deskmate introduced me to a summer part-time job: tutoring her younger male cousin.

She said he had masochistic tendencies.

The harsher I was with him, the better he listened.

So I raised my Meow Combo Punch.

“Dharma Cultivation Sanda!”

I disciplined that cousin straight into the advanced class.

The rich girl stared at the school bully in shock.

“Which cousin of mine have you been tutoring?!”

I was born face-blind, yet the crown prince of Beijing’s elite circle had always stood by me.

Until one day, when I overheard him talking about me with his friends.

“A whole month, and she still hasn’t noticed. Shen Jin, you’ve really got talent.”

“But your girlfriend looks like she’s close to figuring it out. Shouldn’t we switch back?”

In the corner, the man called Shen Jin pinched a cigarette between his fingers and shook his head.

“I’m afraid that won’t work. Yin-yin is still waiting for me to come home for dinner.”

I stood in the doorway and sighed, disappointed that I wouldn’t be getting someone new after all.

I had already grown tired of sleeping with both of them.

I had no idea my boss was a famous fanfic author, one with excellent prose, thrilling plots, and a perfectly balanced diet of content.

And I was one of his top-paying readers.

His new story was a complete departure from his usual style: an utterly squeaky-clean original novel.

I happily topped up my account to buy the chapters, but the more I read, the more I realized the dense, romance-impaired heroine was a lot like me.

The only difference was that the male lead was a shy, innocent, introverted herbivore-type boss whose little inner commentary was ridiculously cute.

He was nothing like my real-life boss, who barely spoke, had a severe case of germophobia, and was an absolute menace.

Later…

The author posted in the comments: “≧◇≦ Thank you all for your support. I-I-I’ve decided to be brave and confess!!! >_<”

Magnanimously, I sent the author a huge gift. “Go for it! Be brave, author! Fear no hardship!”

The very next second, my cold-faced, frowning boss walked out of his office and stopped in front of me, his face bright red.

Me: “?”

Nan Tao, an enslaved maid in a wealthy household, discovers that the baby-shaped ginseng fruit her mistress orders buried is alive.

As the fruit reveals the truth behind the household’s miracle heir, Nan Tao uncovers a cycle of trafficking, forced pregnancy, and women transformed into trees harvested for profit.

With a holy monk and his three disciples, she must uproot the dead tree that holds her soul—even though destroying it will erase her forever.

A dark feminist reimagining of a mythic delicacy, Ginseng Fruit turns supernatural horror into a haunting story of inherited violence, motherhood, and liberation.

In my fifth year by the side of that charming, reckless young playboy, someone snapped a photo of me that made it look like I was pregnant.

For a while, rumors flew through our circle. Everyone thought I was going to use the baby to force my way up and marry into a wealthy family.

When his long-estranged first love heard the news, she came charging back from overseas.

I thought a bloody storm was about to break loose.

But by the time Lu Heran returned from his business trip, all he heard was that I had gotten rid of the baby and slipped back to my hometown.

Sigh. Good girls like us can fool around all we want on ordinary days.

But if we really got pregnant with a child and no proper status, our parents would beat us to death.

Six years ago, forced to choose between Huo Yanxu and my future, I chose my future and went abroad to study.

Six years later, I returned after completing my studies, and Huo Yanxu confessed to me with six years of devoted waiting behind him.

I helped him secure his position as heir to the Huo Family, only to hear him tell his friends, “Pretending to be a lovesick lapdog has been exhausting. Once I marry her, she’ll make money for both of us, and I’ll take Yinyin traveling around the world.”

The young woman in his arms was smiling brightly.

Someone warned him, “Aren’t you afraid she’ll turn on you?”

“We’re getting married tomorrow. Her family cares so much about reputation. You think she’d let herself become damaged goods?”

I laughed coldly. Six years ago, I could give you up for my career. Nothing has changed.

Because of her physical development, Li Zhuguang was maliciously humiliated and secretly photographed by her classmate Zhang Kang.

Luo Xing, once her only friend, also turned her back on her amid the rumors.

To strike back, Li Zhuguang deliberately got close to Song Wangshu, the top student Luo Xing had a crush on, using Zhang Kang’s jealousy to force him to expose himself.

She then returned the evidence of the secret recordings to each of the victims.

After Zhang Kang was expelled, the off-campus landlord retaliated by planting a pinhole camera in her room.

With help from Luo Xing, Song Wangshu, her teachers, and her classmates, Li Zhuguang finally dragged the malice lurking in the shadows out into the sunlight-and learned to trust the people around her again.

The boy I’d secretly loved was expelled from school for protecting his childhood sweetheart.

Years later, I became the most famous talent manager in the industry and ran into him waiting tables at a restaurant.

He had long since forgotten me, but I still wanted to give him a chance. I asked him, “Xie Xingyun, do you want to be an actor?”

He came with me.

It took me three years to transform him from a waiter carrying plates into the entertainment industry’s hottest new star.

Then the childhood sweetheart he’d protected all those years ago came looking for him.

Bad news: I was sold into the Wu household, worked myself to the bone for three or four years, and just when life finally started looking up, the whole family had its property confiscated.

Good news: the Wus were pardoned, the family was released, and even the master escaped execution.

Bad news: they were exiled to Ningguta.

Good news: Ningguta was where I came from.

While I waited at the hospital for my follow-up appointment, a live broadcast of a celebrated director accepting an award overseas played on the giant screen.

During his acknowledgments, he said nothing and placed a call in front of the entire world.

Then my phone rang…

At a family gathering, my younger sister, holding my boyfriend’s arm, beamed as she announced they were getting married.

With a room full of guests, I, dressed in monastic robes, faced their gazes with a calm expression.

Amitabha, I am a monastic.

The story of Lin Wei, the eldest daughter of the Lin Family, being forced into monastic life by her family, had long been known to all.

After wandering the mortal world for more than six hundred years, I hear that a once-in-a-century sword prodigy has appeared.

The young man has also found a dragon that sounds remarkably like the one I lost long ago.

Cultivators from across the realm flock to the mountain, some to seek the dragon and the Dao, others to kill and seize treasure.

I am different.

After a long, dusty journey to the Sword Sect, all I want is to set up a little stall at the foot of the mountain and sell wontons.

I transmigrated into the daughter of a mistress.

When I arrived, my mistress mother was sobbing her heart out.

“What happened?” I asked.

She said, “The Qi family sent word: either they cancel Bai You’s engagement, or they replace her with Bai Zhuo.”

I rubbed my forehead. “And that’s worth crying over?”

My mother stared at me. “How is it not? Haven’t you studied this hard so you can enter a good university and become a better match for the Qi family’s young master? I lost to that woman my whole life. Must my daughter lose to hers too?”

As the oldest unmarried young adult in my family, I had been suffering under the pressure to get married for years.

Eventually, I simply gave up fighting it.

My mom said she was so worried she could not sleep.

So I drove two hundred kilometers overnight, got home at three in the morning, stood by her bed, and pried her eyelids open.

My mom said everyone in the family was laughing at her because I refused to get married.

The next second, I tagged everyone in the family group chat:

[My mom says everyone is laughing at her because I won’t get married. I came to ask, who exactly is laughing at her? @everyone]

My cousin was the first to start a message chain:

[Your little cousin is not laughing at her.]

Then came an orderly line of replies:

[Auntie is not laughing at her.]

[Uncle is not laughing at her.]

[Second Cousin is not laughing at her.]

[Dad is not laughing at her.]

[…]

Mother always said that if a woman wanted to stay radiant, she had to know how to nourish herself.

Ginseng and deer antler were useless.

What truly nourished a woman was a young, vigorous man.

Following that regimen, she still looked sixteen well into her forties.

Having grown up under her influence, I understood the secret by the time I turned eighteen.

Scholars were lean, generals solid, actors charming.

I had sampled them all.

The one I found most intoxicating was Shen Zhaoye.

I lavished mountains of gold and silver on him, yet never so much as put an arm around his waist.

Then he came to take his leave, claiming he had found a more powerful patron.

Furious, I followed him by lantern light into Springwater Lane.

When I kicked open the door, he was kneeling beside a couch, offering tea to someone.

The beauty reclining there lifted her eyes lazily.

My lantern went out, and my soul nearly fled with the flame.

“Mother?! You’re sleeping with my man?”

My mother waited for my father her entire life.

Even when illness confined her to her deathbed, she never got the snowy stroll among plum blossoms he had promised her.

So when Second Young Master Cui and I took a liking to each other, I told him I would wait for him only three times.

The first would honor the joy of our meeting.

The second would honor the bond of truly knowing one another.

The third would honor the love we had shared.

After the third, our ties would be severed, and we would have nothing more to do with each other for the rest of our lives.

Second Young Master Cui agreed with a smile, saying that such a fine match was a blessing from Heaven and that he would never dare cast good fortune away.

Later, he rescued a young woman.

For her sake, he made me wait again and again.

The final time, he sent word that our wedding would be postponed and that we could discuss it again after he had safely brought the young woman back.

I gave a cold laugh and asked, “Whether I marry, and whom I marry, is no concern of yours, Young Master Cui.”

The wedding went ahead as planned after that.

Only the groom had changed.

Anyone who tried to steal my betrothed was certainly detestable.

But anyone who tried to steal Cui Zhaoyu’s bride was, in my eyes, utterly adorable.

I was abducted as a child, but because I had fair skin and a pretty face,

I was carefully trained into a temptress made to ensnare wealthy young masters.

That night, in the most extravagant luxury suite in Macau,

Zhao Rongzheng lay there, languid and sated, his gaze falling on me as I wept like a flower in the rain.

“Stop crying. I’ll pay off your brother’s debt for him. From now on, you stay with me.”

I took the money, coaxed him with sweet words, and then vanished without a trace.

Five years later, news that the Seventh Young Master of the Zhao Family was divorcing his wife to marry a widow shook all of Hong Kong.

Zhao Rongzheng, now the man in power over the Zhao Family, personally stepped forward to handle this sordid scandal.

Seated high above me, he looked down at my meek, submissive, pitifully vulnerable appearance.

“What is it? Does every man in the Zhao Family have to fall into your hands at least once?”

Lin Wanrou was twenty-four this year, an old maiden who still had not married.

Madam Lin’s standards for a son-in-law had fallen from imperial kin to any promising young talent with ambition.

She refused to believe that, with the Grand General’s influence, she could not raise up one dragon among men as her son-in-law.

Lin Wanrou did not want to marry. She would rather stay at home for the rest of her life.

I fell into a sewer while I was out buying groceries and was already unconscious by the time I was rescued.

But unexpectedly, while I was unconscious, a gas explosion occurred at home, killing my husband instantly.

Sobbing hysterically, I stumbled home as fast as I could.

The neighbors all remarked on how deeply my husband and I must have loved each other.

Only I knew I was merely anxious to see the fruits of my labor.

After all, I couldn’t put my mind at ease until I’d seen it with my own eyes…

The enemy army pressed against the border. To humiliate our dynasty, the Xiqing Tribe specifically demanded that the Empress be sent for a political marriage.

In the court, the Emperor resolutely defied the majority opinion and was determined to protect me.

I pondered all night. This was the land my beloved had sworn to defend to the death. This was my home, my roots. I could not run away.

Outside the Capital gate, I questioned him:

“Three years ago, when the enemy army was outside Yuezhou City, didn’t Pei Yu send you six urgent requests for reinforcements?”

“Xiao Jince, why didn’t you send troops?”

Fu Shiyu, the crown prince of Beijing’s elite circles, was famously untouchable.

I worked as his chief interpreter for three years.

He still never managed to remember my full name.

Until the day I “ran into” him at the gallery he often visited, my fingertip brushing over his Adam’s apple.

“CEO Fu, your tie is crooked.”

He pinned me against the floor-to-ceiling window and bit my earlobe.

“Who are you calling CEO Fu?

“Say that again. I dare you.”

The school bully tormented me at school, then followed me home and, right in front of me, slammed Ah Huang, the puppy who had grown up by my side, to death.

But the bully didn’t know I was the Daughter of the Underworld King.

Seizing souls was an ability I had been born with.

The next day, the bully acted completely out of character at school. One by one, he beat up everyone who had ever picked on me.

Then he announced in front of everyone that from now on, he would protect me forever.

When no one was around, I reached up and patted his head. “Good boy, Ah Huang. This body is pretty useful, isn’t it?”

I’m a fanfic writer with nearly a million followers on Big-Eyed Guy.

My OTP? A wildly popular young actress and a famous up-and-coming director.

Soon, self-media accounts across the entire internet would be required to register under their real names, and verified influencers with over a million followers would be the first batch to go public.

The moment I got wind of it, I deleted my account and ran.

Because I was that wildly popular young actress.

But netizens loved drama far too much to let it go. They started posting gossip threads across every major social media platform: Girl, who the hell are you?