The Only Woman Under Heaven

My name is Wang Duoyu, and I've been without a wife since the day I was born. At 104, I finally managed to marry one, but she was electric. She electrocuted me to death. It was a miserable, humiliating death, like something out of a joke. Heaven probably thought my life had been too tragic, so it sent four immortals to extend it: the Thai immortal changed my sex, the Korean immortal gave me plastic surgery, the Chinese immortal bestowed ten billion a day on me, and the Japanese immortal dropped me into a place called the Kingdom of Men. Its eight million people are all men. I'm the only woman here. And that wasn't all. The last immortal tapped the space between my eyebrows and gave me a third eye that can see through everyone's thoughts. That's when I discovered that the traffic cop who kept chasing me to write tickets was thinking, “At last, I can afford my mom's hospital bills”; the billionaire supposedly worth 300 billion was thinking, “Please, lend me 20 billion to save my life”; and the impossibly handsome director of the Security Department was thinking, “She might be the one I've waited for my whole life.” In this country, I don't need an ID card or a passport, because being “the only woman” is the best ID there is. I stay in the most expensive hotels, drive the most expensive cars, and buy the most expensive clothes. If I'm unhappy, I shower people with money. If I'm happy, I do it too. Everyone worships me like a goddess, but I know the truth. I was poor in my previous life, too. I know what it feels like to be poor. I plan to use this bottomless vault to do something big.