A collection of short historical romance stories. Unless something unexpected happens, each chapter will be a standalone tale. How many chapters the author posts depends on their mood, haha. The stories lean toward obsessive love and angst, and some have a mystery element. If you enjoy opening a mystery box of little stories, feel free to give them a try. Here’s a blurb for one of them.
You are Qi Qing, and you must travel to a ruined city to seek its God of Judgment. You have committed a crime that cannot be spoken of. On the road to the ruined city, you meet a strange swordsman, a scholar weighed down by worry, a brothel girl with an eerie smile always on her face, an old man who always carries a battered bundle and treasures it dearly, and a couple who bicker constantly but refuse to part. By chance, all of you gather at an inn in the middle of a desert. In the enormous inn, the only person to greet you is a terrifying-looking woman, and all sorts of clashes break out among you on the very first night. When you wake on the second night, someone has died in the inn, just as you might have expected. A violent sandstorm has also blocked the road, leaving you stranded for at least seven days. There is no way out, but staying inside is fraught with danger, too. To survive the next seven days, you decide to find the killer hiding in the inn. What you don’t know is that the gods’ judgment has already begun, and so has your atonement.
He was her poisonous wine, and the deadly poison was like a devil's curse. She knew that if he came close, she would be doomed, but like a moth to the flame, she threw herself into the flames of destruction without hesitation. Every hug was like a cage made of thorns, with sharp thorns piercing her heart. When she let go, the pain was like her soul being torn apart, and she was in unbearable pain. They pulled repeatedly on the violent edge of love and hate. The wounds were like shocking cracks on the dry earth. They were the cruel traces of love and the ruthless proof of sadomasochism. In the endless darkness, she was like a lonely soul abandoned by the world, licking the bloody wounds alone. The memories were like countless cold steel knives, biting her fragile soul again and again. She looked at his leaving back, tears welling up in her eyes, like water drops trapped in a glass cover, stubbornly refusing to fall. Their love is like a doomsday storm, raging overwhelmingly, leaving only ruins like after the end of the world. Those sweet pasts have now become the sharpest executioner's blade. Every time she recalls them, it is like a round of sadistic torture that makes her soul tremble. She struggled in the turbulent whirlpool of sadomasochism, her love was as humble as dust and as desperate as being trapped in a dark abyss, as if the whole world collapsed and dissipated like a bubble with his departure.
The writing style is quite good and the literary skills are very strong. Why is there no follow-up to "Peeping a Dream in a Cage"?
It looks great, thank you very much to the author!