Transmigrating into the scheming stepmother of a future villain, I was required by the system to stay in character.

I looked at the sallow, skinny child at my feet and, with a beaming smile, swapped the cold steamed bun in his hand for a big chicken drumstick.

From then on, every meal he ate had meat.

His clothes were always fine silks and satins.

I even taught him every day to indulge in eating, drinking, gambling, and decadence.

Later, he wanted to join the army and establish his own household.

I locked him up at home and forced him onto the official career path he was least suited for.

Many years later, when the villain passed the imperial exam with honors, my vicious scheming was exposed one by one.

I thought disaster was about to befall me.

Unexpectedly, the villain merely sneered, “Aren’t you just jealous that my mother dotes on me?”

Then, on the spot, he requested an honorary title for me.

Wait – where exactly did things go wrong?

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