Fiercely Pursuing My Handsome Husband

After transmigrating across a thousand years, her brilliant, radiant eyes captured countless hearts and enchanted countless souls. But...

The first time she saw those black eyes, cold as a thousand-year-old glacier, the heart that had remained unmoved for over a decade finally stirred. A feeling called heartache began to spread through her chest. Years later, when she looked back on that moment, all she could do was sigh at the sky: Why was I feeling sorry for him for no reason? I ended up giving him my whole life!

It was love at first sight. One glance was all it took for her to devote her entire life to this man, who was both divine and demonic, and as sly as a fox.

Fine! So her heart had skipped a beat. They say it’s easy for a woman to win over a man, and she refused to believe that a highly trained special forces soldier from the twenty-first century couldn’t handle an ancient man!

Wasn’t there a song that went, “My passion is like a blazing fire, burning up the whole desert!” She couldn’t set the desert on fire, but surely she could melt an iceberg. And so...

The Art of Pursuing a Man: Passionate Approach

Round One: “Lan Xiaoge, try the chicken soup I made for you.” A beautiful woman in blue placed a steaming bowl of soup in front of a man in purple. Her smile was as bright as the sun, her eyes sparkled, and she watched him expectantly.

The man in purple frowned slightly and took a sip. His brow furrowed even more, and then he stood up and left the pavilion without looking back.

The woman in blue blinked, picked up the spoon, and took a sip herself.

“Ptooey! It’s so salty! Damn it! The cooks at Tianyu Tower dared to trick me! Just wait until I wipe you all out!” How dare they all pull one over on her? They clearly had no idea what they were in for!

The cooks at Tianyu Tower shivered in unison, still unaware that disaster was about to strike.

Round Two: She heard he loved listening to the guzheng. On some day in some month of some year, a certain woman eagerly invited a certain man to enjoy music on a lake.

The sky was clear and the air was crisp, with a gentle breeze and scattered clouds. She played “Carefree” with such passion and skill that even the birds overhead couldn’t help stopping to listen.

When the song ended, she looked up with a delighted smile...

Only to see a flock of crows flying overhead. As it turned out, she had been performing a solo the whole time. “Lan Xiaoge, you bastard!”

After round n, the woman sighed up at the sky. Was she not passionate enough, or was this man just too hard to melt?

Time for a change of strategy. If passion wasn’t working, she’d try sorrow. Didn’t they say men had a strong urge to protect women, and were easily moved by those who seemed melancholy and forlorn?

The Art of Pursuing a Man: Melancholy Approach

Round One: In the distance, a man in purple watched a woman sitting by the lake, lost in thought, a faint sadness surrounding her. He frowned, his heart filled with an inexplicable discomfort. The woman suddenly turned to look in his direction. Sadness still lingered in her eyes, not yet swept away. The moment she saw him, she quickly hid it and gave him a sweet smile. His brow furrowed even more, and he turned irritably and walked away. After he left, the woman revealed a victorious smile.

Round Two: Moonlight flowed like water beneath a full moon hanging high in the sky. In the pavilion, a woman in purple leaned against the railing, gazing sadly at the moon.

Among the mottled shadows of the trees, a man watched the woman’s slender figure in the pavilion and frowned again.

“Alone in a foreign land, I am a stranger. On every festive occasion, I miss my family even more. Should I give up?” Her words drifted softly, as if from beyond the heavens, carrying a faint sorrow and longing. As she spoke, her slender figure seemed to fade, as though she might vanish at any moment!

The man among the trees shuddered. His expression grew hazy, and a feeling called panic began to spread through his chest.

The woman beneath the pavilion glanced unobtrusively toward the trees and turned to leave. As she did, the corner of her mouth curved upward, like a fox who had spent a thousand years honing its wiles, bewitching beyond compare.

After round n!

“You’re leaving?” His voice was icy, his expression terrifying, his eyes full of mockery.

“I’m tired.” Her voice was indifferent, her expression cold, her gaze evasive.

“Mm... Is that so? Has no one ever told you that once you get involved with me, it’s like being haunted by an evil spirit? You want to leave? You won’t find a door, or even a window!” With a wicked smile, he scooped her up and carried her off.

“You bastard! Put me down!”