Historical

My elder sister cared more about dignity than anything else.

After our family was stripped of everything, we were sold together to the Red Pavilion as entertainers, and my elder sister, a gifted qin player, declared, “Even if I must sell my art, I will do it with dignity, for my qin is meant for nobles and high officials, not common rabble unworthy of refined music.”

The patron she insulted lunged at her, and I sacrificed my body to preserve her dignity while she went on to become the Red Pavilion’s foremost art courtesan.

When a wealthy merchant took a fancy to her and made her his lawful wife, I begged her to redeem me too, but she only said, “Wait a little longer, and I will take you out once I find a respectable excuse.”

I waited five whole years, until she had become one of the capital’s celebrated noblewomen, yet her rescue never came.

In torn clothes, I stopped her sedan in the street and asked whether she had forgotten her promise.

She looked me over in disgust and said, “I have no sister as disgraceful as you.”

Through my tears, I demanded, “Did I not become this way because of you, and do you truly not understand what I suffered?”

She pouted and replied, “I watched every step that brought you here, so what hardship could possibly excuse you?”

With that one sentence, she turned the whole street against me, and they cursed me as a shameless whore.

Fury overwhelmed my heart, and I died coughing blood.

When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day she refused to play for the patrons.

She was standing there with her neck stiff, arguing with a man.

My father drowned while building a bridge for the village.

Our stepmother beat and berated us, and everyone thought she treated us terribly.

Years later, my brother rose to high office, and the emperor granted her the title of Lady of Imperial Mandate. Only when she stood at the height of honor did everyone finally understand: beneath her cutting tongue was the softest heart.

The day my fiancé came to break off our engagement, my mother was so excited that tears streamed down her face.

As it turned out, I was not her biological daughter.

She had adopted me only so I could take the calamity meant for her real daughter.

She said, “Now that the ordeal has been fulfilled, you ought to return to your own family.”

I packed my bundle. There was little I could take with me, which made for easy travel.

My birth mother was waiting by the back gate.

She had a booming voice and had come driving an ox cart-every inch an uncouth peasant woman who knew nothing of proper manners.

Because of her, everyone in the Marquis Manor looked down on me even more.

And yet, the one who would bring me back to the capital in splendor was precisely her.

When the palace announced that I was being elevated to Noble Consort, everyone in my family looked grim.

Everyone understood the principle that great merit can threaten the throne.

My father’s achievements were already so great that there was nothing left to reward him with.

This rank of Noble Consort was a naked warning.

If I wanted to keep my whole family safe, I had to hand the emperor a weakness of mine-something he could hold over me and use to put his mind at ease.

Father, Mother, your daughter is off to be arrogant by imperial command!

Starting today, I’m going to be the most outrageously overbearing little menace in the harem!

After discovering yet another mistress Jiang Chengning was keeping outside the estate, I asked for a divorce.

He looked at me coldly and did not say a single word to make me stay.

I went to another town and rented a house. That very night, some lecher crept into my bedroom.

In my panic, I smashed his head in and killed him. His family was determined to make me pay with my life.

But I did not die. I spent a month in prison. When I was finally released, the daylight was so blinding I could hardly open my eyes.

Jiang Chengning’s face was a blur before me.

“Yingying is a woman living all alone out there, and surviving is as difficult for her as it was for you. Now that you’ve experienced it yourself, can you understand her?”

This time, I did not raise my voice and argue as I used to. I only stayed silent. His voice softened.

“I never truly wanted to divorce you. I only wanted to teach you a lesson. From now on, don’t make trouble with me over Yingying again. She has not had it easy.”

I nodded obediently. Jiang Ying had not had it easy.

And Jiang Chengning could just as easily make sure I did not have it easy either.

I returned to the Jiang Family and became his wife again. Once more, he brought up taking Jiang Ying as a concubine.

This time, I agreed. Not only did I feel sorry for Jiang Ying, that poor woman-I went on to feel sorry for one woman after another.

Only much later did Jiang Chengning realize something was wrong and demand to know why I no longer cared about him the way I used to.

I sighed and explained, “None of them have had it easy.”

I am a bastard born of a concubine, yet I carry a face that could topple a kingdom.

When I was nine, a local thug tried to snatch me to make me his bride.

Mother risked her life to save me.

The next day, she took me through the streets and alleys of the capital for three hours, until every passerby had memorized my face.

Then she carried me to the gates of the Marquis of Pingyang Manor, knelt, and cried out:

“I, Lady Liu, a humble concubine, bore this girl for the Marquis on the ninth day of the twelfth month nine years ago in Apricot Blossom Alley, west of the suburbs. The neighbors can all attest to it.

“I know my lowly station and dare not ask for a title. I can only trade my death for the Marquis to acknowledge this child and raise her within the household!”

With that, she slammed her head against the stone lion at the gate and breathed her last.

My mother exchanged her life for my place in the Marquis’s household.

And she let the entire capital know that I am a bastard born of a kept woman.

After ten years of training for the wrong kind of ‘dance,’ the formidable Li Rourou must win an emperor’s favor or die.

Her strength, appetite, and spectacular misunderstandings turn every elegant harem scheme into chaos.

While the emperor plays rival clans against one another, Rourou blunders through assassination attempts, poisoned soup, princely feuds, and a brewing coup.

When imperial gratitude proves dangerously short-lived, she discovers that becoming the harem’s number one woman may require replacing the man at its center.

Born to a forgotten palace dancer, A-Xiu survives the Great Qi harem by keeping her head down and leaning on her kindhearted elder sister, Princess Ninghui.

When two arranged marriages promise both sisters a gentler future, A-Xiu slowly opens her heart to young general Bai Li while Ninghui prepares to wed her childhood love, Ning Ruyan.

But a coup on Ninghui’s wedding day exposes the price of loyalty and power, forcing A-Xiu to carry her sister’s final gift out of a fallen dynasty and build a life beyond the ruins of an old dream.

The day I was escorted onto the Sacrificial Altar, Emperor Pei Yuheng personally pressed his seal onto the list of my crimes.

The entire court decried me as a Nation-Wrecker Sorceress, yet only I knew that his life was something I had reclaimed from the King of Hell, one blade-stroke at a time.

However, every time I saved him, he would forget a little more of me.

By the end, he couldn’t even remember the lantern he once held when he promised to marry me.

The day I died of illness, the entire palace was shrouded in grief.

Only Emperor Yan Lang was not sad; he was merely a bit annoyed.

He was annoyed that half a month ago, because he wanted to invest my sister, Cui Mingshu, as Noble Consort, I had a massive argument with him and had yet to bow my head and admit my fault.

He was annoyed that the tactless officials from the Ministry of Rites were kneeling outside the hall, claiming they did not know how to determine the Empress’s posthumous title, write her biography, or arrange her burial in the imperial mausoleum.

Memorials piled up on his desk like snow on the eaves, as the hundred officials exhausted every flowery word to speculate on the Son of Heaven’s whims.

They suggested posthumous titles like ‘Virtuous,’ ‘Moral,’ ‘Gentle,’ and ‘Respectful,’ yet I was once the woman who, because someone had skimped on Yan Lang’s rations, chased that eunuch through three streets with a knife like a common shrew, cursing him the whole way.

They described my life as ‘noble and carefree,’ yet after his enthronement, he and I did nothing but argue or give each other the cold shoulder.

It seemed I was always crying-always weeping.

When it came to the matter of the imperial mausoleum, Yan Lang finally recalled a sliver of my merit.

Having been husband and wife, he was not stingy in granting me glory after death, graciously permitting me to sleep in the same tomb as him.

Before the vermilion ink of his approval for our joint burial could dry, Aunt Sun, the head maid of Jianjia Palace, was already kneeling respectfully outside the hall. She said the Empress had a final request she wished to be granted.

Yan Lang likely guessed what it was.

In all probability, she wanted to bow her head and admit her mistake, then ask for a grander posthumous title, an honorary rank, and for him to forbid Cui Mingshu from entering the palace.

“The Empress does not wish to be buried with you. “She said this life was too wretched; she never wants to see you again, neither in the blue vault of heaven nor the yellow springs of the underworld.”