My Child Husband Is the Future Chief Minister, and the Wicked, Fat Wife Is Panicking

Lin Daya transmigrated into a book, becoming the notorious fat, vicious woman in the village.

When she opened her eyes, a human trafficker was about to take away the scrawny boy her family had taken in as a child groom.

Fifty coins, money in one hand and the boy in the other.

She recalled the original story: this child groom would grow up to become the future chief councilor, the kind who killed without batting an eye.

The original owner sold him, and three years later was trampled to death in the street.

Lin Daya slammed her hand on the table. “I’m not selling him!”

The trafficker was stunned, the child groom was dumbfounded, and the whole village said she’d gone mad.

But she knew this wasn’t foolishness. It was self-preservation.

Not only did she have to stay alive, she had to raise the future chief councilor to be hers.

Lose weight, make money, support the family, protect the children. She had to do it all.

Later, the skinny boy she had protected went on to place first in the imperial examinations.

Later still, he became the chief councilor, a man who held power over the entire court.

On their wedding night, he cornered her against the wall, his voice hoarse as he said:

“You tried to sell me back then. I remembered it for the rest of my life. Now you can’t get away.”

Lin Daya: “??? What happened to being grateful?”