Wen Nuan's methods were truly effective, and since Mo Yujun was never particularly promiscuous to begin with, she was now the only mistress in the manor.
After all, the original Su Qingyun had never bothered to manage household affairs. Spoiled for too long, even if the Prime Minister had tried to teach her, she wouldn’t have learned to handle account books or such matters.
Wen Nuan knew how to please Consort De and never made things difficult for the disfavored Su Qingyun. Mo Yujun genuinely felt that bringing this concubine into the household had been the right decision.
Since Wen Nuan’s arrival, the manor occasionally echoed with music and laughter, a stark contrast to Su Qingyun’s solitude. She couldn’t even remember how many days had passed since she last saw Mo Yujun.
Staring blankly at the pear blossom tree beyond the bamboo curtain, she shivered despite the vibrant spring warmth, her body chilled to the bone.
Your Highness, why don’t you love me anymore?
Why?
Su Qingyun watched as a woman in purple robes led the toddling Young Prince by the hand, her eyes crinkling with tenderness.
For a moment, Su Qingyun barely recognized the woman as Wen Nuan.
This person had once been a lowly maid, yet now, clad in fine silks, she carried herself with an air of nobility—utterly devoid of any trace of her humble origins.
Unable to sit still any longer, Su Qingyun stormed outside.
"What kind of fox-spirit tricks did you use to seduce His Highness?" she demanded, her finger trembling as she pointed at Wen Nuan’s face.
Wen Nuan paused upon seeing Su Qingyun. Had it only been two years? How had the princess consort’s hair already turned white?
But hearing Su Qingyun’s venomous words, Wen Nuan calmly instructed her maid to hold the Young Prince and straightened her posture, scrutinizing Su Qingyun with cool detachment.
"You don’t look like the pampered daughter of a Prime Minister at all," Wen Nuan remarked, her tone indifferent.
"How dare you!" Su Qingyun was livid.
"You think just because you have His Highness’s child, you’ve won? Let’s see if he’ll still love you after this one dies today!"
With that, Su Qingyun lunged to snatch the "bastard" from the maid’s arms. The maid reacted swiftly, shielding the Young Prince and trying to flee, but Su Qingyun was beyond reason.
"You’re insane! Every noble daughter from a fifth-rank official’s household lives better than you do now. It’s not that the Prime Minister spoiled you rotten—you were simply born worthless!" Wen Nuan shielded the child while chastising her.
"I don’t care! I won’t listen, I won’t!" Su Qingyun shook her head violently, the commotion loud enough to draw Mo Yujun from his study.
When he saw the deranged Su Qingyun seize the child, Mo Yujun felt nothing but horror.
He gripped Su Qingyun’s arm with bruising force, forcing her to release the child in pain. Catching the Young Prince, he glared at her icily.
"Leave."
Su Qingyun stared at him, dazed.
"Why? Don’t you love me anymore? You do love me! Tell me what’s wrong—I’ll change!"
Mo Yujun: "..."
"I’ll draft the divorce papers."
He couldn’t risk keeping a madwoman in his household, endangering his heir. The Young Prince was beloved by the Emperor, and these past few years, Mo Yujun had focused on managing businesses with Wen Nuan. Even his father’s attitude toward him had softened.
His stipend was restored, though he’d never inherit the throne—his father’s punishment. But without the court’s scheming, his life was comfortable now.
The only regret was Wen Nuan’s inability to conceive. He didn’t know why, but with the Young Prince, he was content.
After writing the divorce papers, Mo Yujun handed them to Su Qingyun, who knelt outside his study.
"Pack your things. Your dowry maids and everything you’ve used here will be sent back to you."
"I was wrong, Yujun, please! I’ll never do it again! Don’t make me leave you!"
Su Qingyun collapsed, weeping pitifully, but Mo Yujun’s heart remained unmoved.
Wen Nuan had the steward escort her to the gates. Watching the broken figure retreat, a maid shuddered.
"My lady, after so many years together, isn’t His Highness being too heartless?"
"Was the princess consort any better? The Prime Minister is renowned as a virtuous official—rightly so. But his ‘beloved daughter’ never spared a thought for him, did she?" Wen Nuan saw things clearly.
She had what she wanted now: a lifetime of wealth with her child. Even the infertility potion she’d been forced to drink years ago no longer seemed so painful.
"True. The princess consort used to… ahem… even in the garden’s grass. It was disgraceful—nothing like a noble lady," the maid muttered disdainfully.
"Enough of such talk!" Wen Nuan flushed, chiding her.
"Wait, the main couple divorced?" Little Wei nearly dropped her herbs in shock. She and her master had been traveling the kingdom and only just returned to the capital—what excellent news!
The "wicked mother-in-law" had taken her sweet time.
"The male lead initiated it. She’s already been sent back to the Prime Minister’s estate."
"Did the Prime Minister let her in?" Little Wei stretched, wrapping medicinal herbs and labeling them with her master’s notes.
"He did. But this Wen Nuan… she’s impressive," Si admitted, surprised by the outcome.
"Strange, though. Why did the female lead agree this time? She stayed even when blind! There were other ‘third parties’ before, right?"
Little Wei was baffled. Was the best way to break up a couple to pair each with someone else?
"That one was a villainess. You know how it goes," Si said, exasperated.
Little Wei raised a brow and checked her mission panel: Progress: 95%.
"Not done yet?" She was puzzled.
Would the Prime Minister seek justice for his daughter?
Sir Prime Minister, don’t do it!
"Maybe there’s more, but your time’s running out."
Little Wei: (；д；)
She found Si’s words ominous—as if she were about to die. Still, two years with Mo Qing had been more than she’d hoped for.
"Should I… prepare something?" she asked nervously.
"For what?" Si was confused.
The mission had been in Little Wei’s hands for over two years. All that was left was to wait.
"I need to kiss my master! Otherwise, your ship won’t sail."
Si: "..."
"You’re really something," Si deadpanned.
"Master, master! The eldest disciple got captured by a—wait, no. Master, I want to kiss you!"
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lities. One day, Qi Yuan was buying groceries when he unfortunately came face-to-face with a monster. Just when he thought he was going to die on the spot, he suddenly heard the monster's thoughts... "This aura, he's definitely not an ordinary master!" "So terrifying, so terrifying." "A fight with my back against the wall, I can't take it anymore." Qi Yuan: Ah, no one told me that my awakened ability isn't telepathy, but rather the stronger my enemies imagine me to be, the stronger I truly become. PS: Zhou Hai in the first chapter is not the protagonist.
pression Bureau] Transported to a fantasy world overrun by demons and monsters, Gu Qingfeng becomes a jailer in the Demon Suppression Prison of the Great Yan Dynasty's Demon Suppression Bureau. From this point on, bizarre cases frequently occur in the Demon Suppression Prison, once known as hell on earth and infamous for its gloomy, terrifying atmosphere! Why do the demons and monsters in the prison wail miserably every night? Why has the corpse demon, capable of transforming into various beauties, donned black stockings and switched careers to become a foot massage therapist? Why has the eye demon, expert in soul-snatching and illusions, turned into a VR headset? Why is the fox spirit performing otaku dances? Are all these occurrences a twisted expression of demonic nature, or a descent into moral depravity? After peeling away layer upon layer of mystery, all clues ultimately point to a jailer named Gu Qingfeng. Gu Qingfeng: "Hehehe... My dear demons and monsters, whose card shall we flip today?"
transmigrates into the world as the sect master of the Heavenly Yan Sect, which is on the verge of being wiped out. He binds a system that grants him cultivation power based on the number of disciples he has: for each disciple, he automatically gains a year's worth of cultivation every single day! Take one disciple: every day he gains 1 year of cultivation power. While others struggle through a year of bitter training, he gets the same just by sleeping through a single night. Take ten disciples: every day he gains 10 years of cultivation power. Foundation Establishment, Core Formation, Nascent Soul—he breezes through all bottlenecks without lifting a finger. Take one hundred disciples: every day he gains 100 years of cultivation power. Even a Soul Transformation Venerable before him can’t survive a single blow. Take ten thousand disciples: every day he gains 10,000 years of cultivation power! With a wave of his hand, he topples empires. With a single step, he crushes the sacred grounds of the universe. ... While others fight tooth and nail for secret techniques, Lin Yan casually hands out Nascent Soul-level cultivation manuals as beginner textbooks. While others strain to find talented recruits, Lin Yan opens his doors to anyone—so long as they’re human. In just three short years, the Heavenly Yan Sect went from a backwater sect made up of three crumbling huts to a sacred land that every cultivator under heaven would kill to enter. ... One day, otherworldly demon gods invade, with a million demon soldiers pressing down upon the realm. Lin Yan, yawning, rises from his lounge chair and glances at the system panel: [Current Disciples: 1.28 million] [Daily Cultivation Increase: 1.28 million years] He waves his hand casually, and the countless demon soldiers are reduced to ashes in an instant. “So noisy… interrupting my fishing.”
ing gift was a patch of barren land, and disciples were all picked up along the way. He spent fifty years diligently building three "ramshackle little sects," thinking he could finally live a carefree life relying on his disciples. But right at the fifty-year mark, he was suddenly swept away by a spatial rift and exiled to the Chaos Desolation, the Disorderly Ruins. There was no spiritual energy there, only slaughter. Relying on the cultivation feedback from his disciples, Gu Changyuan hacked his way through a sea of blood for eleven hundred years. When the system finally fished him back out, he discovered the ramshackle little sects he'd built back then had developed a rather... unusual style. Hold on... I vanished for a thousand years, so how did my ramshackle little sects become holy lands?!
