Aristocracy

The transmigrated woman and the Seventh Prince were thrown into the Cold Palace together.

Her mission was to win over the Seventh Prince and get rid of me, the main villain.

But she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

So I picked up a brick and smashed it down hard on the unconscious Seventh Prince.

Once he stopped making a sound, I raised the brick with an icy expression. “Now I’m the Seventh Prince. You can win me over instead.”

I was the daughter of a noble house, personally chosen by the emperor to enter the palace. With a single imperial edict, I was made Noble Consort. Everyone envied my good fortune, never knowing that within a gilded cage, even a sparrow cannot fly free. On the day I entered the palace, the matron attending my bath told me: “His Majesty is gentle and kind. Your Grace, do not be afraid.” But in this fathomless palace, the very earth was piled with bones. Every terror within these walls had been wrought by his own hand.

I was born a beggar.

Maybe some wealthy young lady had made a mistake, or maybe some brothel woman had simply had rotten luck.

Either way, I came into this world. I grew up begging for bowls of slop.

At my most wretched, I even fought mangy dogs for food.

Later, to stay alive, I sweet-talked a human trafficker into selling me into the palace.

On the day I entered the palace, I saw the red sun rising at the edge of the sky.

It looked just like the duck egg yolk that had once gone rolling and wobbling to my feet in the Drunken Fragrance Pavilion.

I smacked my lips and savored the memory for a moment, then turned and stepped onto that long, long palace road.

From a beggar hated by all, I became a palace maid within the towering imperial palace.

That year, I was nine.

I have been selling wontons in the capital for twenty years.

Prince Cheng’s Heir was galloping through the city when his horse’s hooves trampled my wonton stall. He even struck me with his whip.

The heir was incredibly arrogant. “You’re just a lowly commoner,” he sneered. “Even if I don’t pay you a copper, what can you possibly do about it?”

The next day, I went to the Capital Prefecture to beat the drum and cry for justice.

The Six Ministers of the Six Boards arrived in person, and the Left and Right Censors were present to observe the proceedings.

Marquis Ningzhao hauled the heir into the hall. “I’ve caught the little brat!”

The Emperor, seated upon the main throne, declared, “Beat this boy until even his father won’t recognize him.”

Before I became the bedchamber attendant of the Heir of Dingguo Duke Manor, I was once a “skinny horse” kept in the household of a Yangzhou salt merchant-a girl raised to be sold as a concubine.

To them, I was nothing more than a plaything passed between the powerful.

But they did not know that Qingliu, with her willow-slender waist, could also be a gentle, curved blade.

Everyone said I was blessed by fate.

Born behind vermilion gates, I rested my head on jade and wrapped myself in brocade.

At three, I began my education, studying essays on how to govern the realm.

At five, I held an abacus, calculating the empire’s grain and coin.

At twelve, I debated the scholars in the clan school and, though I was a girl, took first place above them all.

At fifteen, during my coming-of-age banquet, warlords from three regions offered mountains and rivers as my betrothal gifts.

And yet, I chose the hardest road of all.

The day I eloped with a lowly soldier who guarded the city gate, the entire city laughed at me for debasing myself.

After one night of passion, I was stricken from the Yin Clan’s rolls, my spotless reputation ruined.

No one knew that the soldier was the last surviving bloodline of the imperial house.

They were fighting for the realm.

What I was fighting for was the right to take history’s iron brush in hand and rewrite the world with a name that could not be questioned.

Second Young Master Xie was a notorious wastrel.

I lived under the Xie Family’s roof and bent over backward to please him, yet he looked down on me all the same.

He thought I was trying to climb my way up by clinging to him, and sneered at me.

“With looks like hers, I wouldn’t take her even as a concubine.”

Then his mother took him by the arm and told him to call me sister-in-law.

“This son of mine is the only one I still worry about. Thank goodness I have you to help me look after him.”

That night, he climbed over the wall and pinned me into a corner, asking in a coaxing voice, “If I become your concubine instead… will you take me?”

In my third year as Empress Dowager, my greatest fear is not the court officials, nor the brushes held by the court historians.

It is the moments when I wake from a dream in the dead of night and instinctively call out the name of Xie Wuyang.

As the palace lanterns flicker to life, I am reminded that three years ago, I was the one who personally wrote the secret order sending him to his death at Yanhui Ridge.

Nan Jinping was an unfavored concubine-born daughter of the Nan Family.

To escape the fate of being sent by the principal wife to become a powerful nobleman’s concubine, she searched everywhere for a marriage that might keep her alive.

At the Bamboo Grove Elegant Gathering, she provoked Wang Yu, the aloof and distinguished legitimate son of the Langya Wang Clan; later, during the turmoil at Hong’en Temple, a twist of fate led her to save his life.

After that, as the world descended into chaos and friends and family were scattered, Nan Jinping rushed from place to place to save her maid, Xiao Mei, and ventured deep into danger to find Wang Yu.

Under the crushing weight of life and death, and of social rank, the two gradually developed feelings for each other.

When the realm was thrown into upheaval and the glory of the old clans collapsed, she finally went from a concubine-born daughter at the mercy of others to someone capable of choosing where she belonged.

When I was thirteen, in order to serve the distinguished guest who had come from afar, I smeared lard on the soles of the lead dancer’s shoes, making her slip and embarrass herself on the spot.

After that, the beauty sent to his room became me, just as I had wished.

Yet that impossibly refined nobleman merely looked me over twice, then said a single sentence that left me chilled from head to toe, as if a basin of ice water had been poured over me.

“I saw everything just now.”