“Would you like to buy some storybooks, young master? They’re quite thrilling!”
By the roadside, a small book stall was set up. A fair-faced young man dressed in black sat on a small stool, cheerfully promoting a book titled The Flirty Widow, General, Don’t Love Too Much.
Across from him, a scholar in white took the book and flipped through it, immediately blushing crimson:
“In broad daylight, under the clear sky, how dare you publicly sell such erotic books on the streets? It’s utterly disgraceful!”
“Ah~”
The young man in black leisurely rose from his seat, stepping closer to the scholar:
“As the old saying goes, ‘Appetite and lust are part of human nature.’ Matters between men and women are nothing to be ashamed of. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if you bought a copy to enjoy with your wife?”
The scholar clicked his tongue, glanced at the passersby, and finally shook his head, preparing to leave while swaying his folding fan.
“Hey, don’t go!”
The young man in black rolled his eyes, grabbed the scholar’s sleeve, and leaned in to whisper discreetly:
“Don’t worry, young master. My stall operates with complete privacy—no one else will ever know! Here, this book, Corpse Beauty, is even more captivating than the last. It tells the story of a fallen princess who was first violated to death by enemy soldiers, then abandoned in the wilderness, and later… well, you know… by passersby. Filled with accumulated resentment, she becomes a Corpse Beauty, first seducing and then killing all the men who harmed her…”
“How absurd is that?”
Upon hearing this, the scholar’s jaw dropped as if he could swallow a whole watermelon.
“You bet! Not only is the plot absurd, but the details are incredibly vivid and steamy!”
The young man in black raised an eyebrow. “I can see you’re genuinely interested, so I’ll make an exception today: buy one, get one free. Both books for just ten taels, how about that?”
“Ten taels? I work at the prestigious Qingfeng Academy in Sifang City, and my monthly salary is only eight taels. How can two shabby books cost so much? Are you trying to empty my purse?”
Seeing the scholar’s irritation, the young man in black immediately withdrew his smile and took the books back.
“These are limited editions. Take it or leave it!”
“Wait!”
The scholar glanced around to ensure no acquaintances were nearby, then sighed and took out his money pouch, placing it in the young man’s hand. “Fine, ten taels it is. Please keep this confidential, shopkeeper.”
“Deal!”
The young man in black flashed a professional fake smile, accepted the money, and handed over the books.
“Come again if you like them!”
After seeing off the customer, Shen Yue stroked her non-existent beard, a satisfied smile curling at the corners of her lips.
Settling back onto the small stool, she began organizing the remaining storybooks, all the while calculating that she might still close one more sale before the curfew at the prince’s residence.
While she’s busy, let’s take a moment for a character introduction.
Shen Yue, 21 years old, female, with a fondness for men (preferably handsome ones), and an avid reader of various novels and comics, whether they feature 1v1 or 1vN relationships.
Professionally, her main job is as a struggling writer on Xihongshi Novel Website, while her side gig is as a mercenary for GSK in Country E. She took on the side job because her writing income simply wasn’t enough to make ends meet.
Three months ago, she returned home with 500,000 in extra earnings, eagerly opened her laptop, and logged into Xihongshi Novel Website, only to drop dead upon seeing the bold text: [Yesterday’s Earnings: 0.5 yuan].
That’s right—she died of rage.
When she woke up again, she had traveled back in time to the Great Qi Dynasty.
The original owner was also named Shen Yue, seventeen years old, already leading a double life at such a tender age.
On the surface, she was a cross-dressing female shadow guard under Prince Cheng’s command, but in reality, she was a spy sent by the notorious assassination organization—the Netherworld Hall.
However, none of this mattered to Shen Yue. What truly mattered was picking up her pen to resume her former trade and wash away the shame of her past life!
Thus, she seized idle moments during workdays to learn traditional characters and squeezed in time to write some storybooks, selling them on her days off.
When ordinary storybooks failed to sell, she switched to writing erotic novels. After all, this was ancient times—there were no strict censorship mechanisms like Tomato Web.
Sure enough, those impeccably dressed scholars who spouted classical phrases initially scoffed at these books, but soon they were blushing, hearts racing, noses bleeding, and eagerly pulling out silver to make purchases.
Looking at the bulging money pouch before her, Shen Yue couldn’t help but sigh: Whether in ancient times or modern, H-content remains eternally classic!
She chuckled slyly and was about to tuck away the money pouch when a rough, large hand abruptly seized her wrist:
“Forty-Nine, you’ve really made your brother search hard for you!”
Forty-Nine was the original owner’s code name in the Netherworld Hall.
From the original owner’s memories, the Netherworld Hall never treated them as human beings.
Whether they made mistakes or not, they endured daily whippings and beatings—scalding water poured over them in summer, icy water in winter, with honey smeared on their wounds to attract ants that would gnaw at their flesh.
During those years, even spoiled rice never filled her stomach once.
It was precisely for this reason that the original owner, on her very first day in the prince’s residence… died from overeating.
Thinking of this, Shen Yue finally understood why she had transmigrated into the original owner’s body.
One died from anger, the other from gluttony.
The Crouching Dragon and the Young Phoenix were destined to meet eventually.
“Forty-Nine, it’s been three months. Have you found that item?”
A chilling male voice snapped Shen Yue back to reality.
She lifted her eyelids and looked at the pockmarked face of the agent codenamed Six, replying with a cheeky grin:
“Brother Six, Prince Cheng’s residence is so vast, its layout as tangled as a maze, with tight security everywhere. Your little sister truly finds it difficult to make a move…”
As she spoke, she pouted her small mouth, her large dewy eyes blinking innocently, radiating pure guilelessness.
Or so it seemed!
On her second day in the prince’s residence, she had already mapped out the entire layout.
She knew every secret chamber, every hidden passage, whose pillow hid erotic illustrations, whose undergarments piled up unwashed—she was fully aware of it all.
The reason she hadn’t followed orders to search for that brocade box was simply because she didn’t want to.
Shen Yue could work for others, but she would never serve the Netherworld Hall—an organization that devoured people without spitting out bones, offered no wages, granted no holidays, and never let anyone eat their fill!
“How about giving me a few more days, Brother Six?” she said, batting her peach-blossom eyes and sending a flirtatious glance his way.
Agent Six narrowed his already small eyes and shamelessly scanned her up and down.
He licked his greasy lips, “Forty-Nine, you always used to dress so sloppily before. Only now does your brother realize how stunning you’ve become. Granting you a few more days isn’t impossible. There’s still over an hour until the residence’s curfew—plenty of time for anything. What do you say?”
“Ah, that sounds perfectly manageable!”
Shen Yue curved her eyes into crescents, her smile blooming like a flower. Gently pinching the sleeve of Agent Six, she pulled him into a nearby alley and pressed him against the wall.
“Little sister is being quite forward, aren’t you?”
A lecherous smirk flashed in Agent Six’s eyes as he puckered his greasy, sausage-like lips, leaning in closer.
Suddenly, a chilling coldness surged—
A modified Tri-edged Special Ops Knife had somehow silently pressed against the major artery on the side of his neck!
“Six, oh Six, I recall last time you bullied Eighty-Three—you were out the door, pants in hand, in less time than it takes to drink a cup of tea. Yet today you have the audacity to boast about lasting an hour? Aren’t you afraid people will laugh their teeth out?”