Traveling Back to Ten Years Before the Story Began

Xie Yuzhi transmigrated into a chaotic, melodramatic novel, then was forced to take in a whole litter of scrappy kids. Every one of these kids was an original-story villain, unloved by both parents. A few could barely even be called villains: they died within two lines in the book, the very definition of nameless background cannon fodder. Xie Yuzhi had transmigrated in person, so if he died, that would be the end of him for real. To stay alive, he could only trudge along with this group of future cannon fodder, avoiding the original plot and doing his best to help them grow. He tried a little too hard and accidentally made himself the protagonist. How could that not count? The child he taught to read became emperor. The child he stayed up all night caring for became a renowned general of the Imperial Guard. And a boy about his own age became the chancellor, second only to The Outcast and above all others... as well as his husband. Everyone under heaven with power, influence, and money was connected to Xie Yuzhi somehow. He had done well enough by transmigrating into a book, and ought to be content. Xie Yuzhi had spent ten years alone in this other world, but in that time he had gained family, old friends, a beloved, and a kindred spirit. He had made himself a home. Everything was moving in a good direction. Stories always ended with everyone living happily together, and Xie Yuzhi had thought his would be the same. Until he discovered that he had arrived before the plot began. When the story started, everything he had spent ten years building, all his schemes and battles, his victories and accomplishments, his few dear friends, and his beloved, the Great Yan chancellor Pei Yuncheng... were effortlessly won over by someone else in just ten days. The emperor loved him. The general loved him. The chancellor loved him too. Xie Yuzhi heard his husband say with a smile, “My darling, he is the moonlight of my life.” Moonlight... Xie Yuzhi had been the one to teach them that expression. * Xie Yuzhi and Pei Yuncheng had known and promised themselves to each other since they were young. They had fought side by side from their youth all the way to the heights of power, been in love for ten years, and married for three. Together, they had made it through the most wretched and difficult years. They had fought dogs for food, battled beggars for survival, huddled together for warmth beneath a bridge on winter nights, and killed people in bloody fights on the streets and at court. But they had also studied together, watched the most beautiful fireworks in Shengjing together, played with childish bamboo dragonflies, shared awkward first kisses, and laid their heads together on the battlefield in the dead of night to speak from the heart. Xie Yuzhi had seen all of Pei Yuncheng's darkness and ruthlessness, and Pei Yuncheng understood Xie Yuzhi's lofty ambitions and schemes. In deserted palace halls, secluded woodsheds, and on the wedding bed spread with brilliant red brocade, they had clung to each other until death. They were the closest of friends and the most sincere of lovers. Whenever Xie Yuzhi cried, Pei Yuncheng would wipe away his tears and tell him not to be afraid, that he would handle it. And whenever Pei Yuncheng returned covered in blood and shadowed by menace, Xie Yuzhi would shed his polished, noble facade and throw himself headlong into the plots and intrigues, the clash of blades, that he had sworn he wanted nothing more to do with. Back then, Xie Yuzhi believed Pei Yuncheng truly loved him. Pei Yuncheng loved him ten years ago. Pei Yuncheng loved him three years ago. As for now... Dragging his frail, ailing body, Xie Yuzhi swallowed the metallic sweetness rising in his throat. He looked earnestly at the handsome face of the man who had once loved him and said, each word deliberate, “I want a divorce.” Loved ones torn apart and turned to enemies; lovers turning against each other, locked in a fight to the death. Get another chance at life, and you can all go to hell. Theme: Fate is woven like a net; become as steadfast as stone.