Flowers in the Mirror Are Hard to Pluck

A Flower in the Mirror Is Hard to Pluck

But I insist on plucking it. Once I do, I'll get bored.

I am a spoiled young noblewoman in the capital, born into a privileged family and blessed with skin as white as snow and beauty like a flower. Three years ago, I fell in love at first sight with the elegant, refined top scorer of the imperial examinations and wanted to marry him. But he treated me coldly and never gave me a second thought. That only intensified my possessiveness.

A flower in the mirror is hard to pluck, but I insist on plucking it.

I pestered him every day and told him how I felt, but it didn't work very well.

Then one time, after we got drunk, we became intimate, and he married me.

I thought I would cherish the love I'd felt at first sight until the end of my days. I never expected that after three years with him, I'd want a divorce.

I'm tired of looking at his face, and he's too stiff in bed, with no novelty at all.

Besides, I've developed an indescribable feeling for the new top scorer. Maybe my mother was right. I'm just someone who gets tired of things easily. Whether it's people or objects, I never stay fond of anything for long. Knowing that, I don't want to settle for my current life anymore. Perhaps this time, I can patiently get to know the new top scorer. If he doesn't like me, I should be able to let go gracefully, without pestering him the way I did before.

When I told my husband I wanted a divorce, he said I could forget about it.

"You think I'd let you marry someone else?"

Theme: Treasure the present