Transmigrated as a doomed stand-in and cannon fodder? No problem. I’ve bound myself to a System, and the more the scummy man and his vile lover stir up trouble, the more gold ingots I earn!
Take my sugar daddy’s money, fake my death, and head to Jiangnan to become its richest person. Then raise my adorable genius baby and bring home a live-in husband. What could be better?
Regent Lu Zheng warns coldly, “You have a face that looks just like hers, but that’s all. Remember your place.”
Jiang Xuening weeps like a delicate flower in front of him, while secretly doing mental math fast enough to spark a fire. “Don’t worry, boss! As long as the money’s right, I’ll play the scheming tea girl and scatter your ashes!”
And so
The secondary consort picks a fight and smashes a vase? She gets billed five hundred taels for emotional distress!
The white moonlight pretends to have a terminal illness and demands blood from his heart? Fine. Concentrated pig’s blood that costs two copper coins a jin, mixed with croton seeds, will be yours for a hundred thousand taels of gold. Drink it, and I guarantee you’ll spend the day running to the toilet!
After squeezing the last drop of blood from the prince’s residence, Jiang Xuening sets the cold palace on fire and fakes her death, fleeing while pregnant.
Three years later, at a Jiangnan dock.
The regent, nearly driven mad by his search for his wife, finds his path blocked by a scheming little boy who looks exactly like him and is clutching a solid-gold abacus.
“Hey, mister. You look like your wife ran off because you’ve got bad luck written all over your face. Want to buy a guide to avoiding scams? Ten taels at the regular price, but I’ll sell it to you for a hundred taels of gold!”
Lu Zheng’s eyes nearly pop out of his head. Following the clues, he finds the “deceased wife” he has thought about day and night, standing on a raised platform and cheerfully hosting the [First Jiangnan Richest Person’s Search for a Live-In Husband]!
The once lofty and cold-blooded powerbroker loses his mind completely.
He shatters the husband-selection sign with one stroke of his sword, then faces all the talented scholars of Jiangnan with red eyes. Through clenched teeth, yet as humble as can be, he pleads:
“Jiang Xuening! You told our son the grass on my grave is three feet tall?! Fine, I’ll be the live-in husband! Just open the door!”
