Rules for Concubines in the Qing Dynasty
Some say that women of extraordinary beauty are often simple-minded—Old Jiu was half inclined to believe it. Others claim that women of great intelligence are always plain, and this Old Jiu found diff
Yan Yan felt that her life’s coffee table must be crowded with “tragedies,” but none was more disastrous than swapping souls with someone who didn’t even exist.
She thought she would never forget that afternoon: cradling a dusty novel she’d borrowed from who knows where, sitting at the outdoor café opposite her company, pretending to read with elegance. The truth was, she was waiting for the newly appointed manager of the General Affairs Department. Just catching a distant glimpse would fill her with energy for the rest of the day.
It wasn’t that Yan Yan was infatuated—no, that wasn’t it. The handsome manager was her college classmate, Ni Chen, the one she had secretly loved for three years. Fate, it seemed, was unfair. They’d graduated from the same university, joined the same company, yet he became a manager, while she remained a lowly underling.
Yan Yan sighed heavily, but continued her undignified vigil. Truthfully, she was quite capable, but there’s always someone better, and comparing oneself to others only brings misery. Suddenly, her eyes lit up—Ni Chen had left work, striding out of the company building.
He was tall, though he didn’t like basketball; he rarely smiled, but exuded warmth; he never paid much attention in class, yet always earned top marks. He was the obsession of every girl in the class—no, in the whole school—and, of course, of Yan Yan herself.
She gazed foolishly as Ni Chen passed by on the street, thinking that if there had been a mirror in front of her, she’d have seen herself drooling.
Yan Yan didn’t know ho