Court Intrigue

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!

On the day the Crown Prince was deposed, I left the Eastern Palace with the palace servants, a bundle on my back.

When we reached a deserted place, the Crown Prince caught my hand. “Come with me. I can protect you.”

Tears shimmered in my eyes. “No. This servant will shave her head and become a nun, to pray for Your Highness’s blessings.”

With that, under his reluctant gaze, I walked into the nunnery.

Of course I couldn’t go with him. He was the male lead, and I was the vicious supporting villainess.

In the original plot, I was supposed to follow him and suffer every hardship at his side. But then he would fall in love with a time-traveling woman, reclaim the throne, and make her Empress.

As for me, I would have to fight that time-traveling woman in the palace, then die a miserable death in the end.

Ugh, please.

I did like the Crown Prince, but my motives weren’t exactly pure. More than anything, I wanted wealth and glory.

Since I already knew how it ended, there was no way I was going to suffer with him.

Luckily, I hadn’t awakened too late. I had already built up quite a fortune.

Five years later, after my first husband died and I was just preparing to marry my second, the Crown Prince appeared before me with a cold, shadowed face.

He gripped my hand with crushing force and said through gritted teeth, “Didn’t you say you were becoming a nun?”

At Yuchi Wei’s wedding, I once fired an arrow that pierced through the bride’s red veil, killing her on the spot.

I did it because that woman was a spy.

In the aftermath, Yuchi Wei was moved to tears of gratitude. He promoted me to be his personal lieutenant.

Because of that proximity, he eventually discovered my secret-that I was a woman disguised as a man.

Five years later, on our wedding night, he walked into the room carrying a funerary urn he had cherished for years.

“I want you to experience the same thing I did back then,” he said. “To taste the bitterest pain at the moment of your greatest joy.”

Only then did I realize he had deeply loved that spy all along, and his heart had never changed.

He gouged out my eyes and crippled my hands so that I could never fire an arrow again.

Amidst a world of bloody light, I set the house ablaze, dragging him down to death with me.

When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day of Yuchi Wei’s wedding.

“General, do you think the woman who just stepped out of the bridal sedan could be that spy?” my subordinate whispered.

I stopped him, my expression indifferent.

“We are only here today to offer our congratulations. We will not discuss official business.”

Unwilling to spend my life as a slave, I set my sights on Yun Jian, the young master of a local wealthy family.

Through countless schemes and every trick in the book, I managed to enter the Yun Manor to serve him.

I deceived him for his heart, gathered his wealth, and coaxed him into supporting me so I could travel to the capital for the imperial examinations and become an official.

“I, Jiang Rui, swear to the heavens that when I become a Female Chancellor or a high-ranking minister, I will personally petition His Majesty to grant us a marriage.”

Later, as I navigated the shifting tides of the imperial court, my career soared. I had long since forgotten the son of a mere local merchant.

While playing chess with me, the Seventh Prince would drop subtle hints, asking whether I was already betrothed.

Meanwhile, the Chief Censor-whom I had outperformed in every possible way-caught wind of this. He grabbed the sleeve of my official robes after the morning court session, refusing to let go.

Gritting his teeth, he hissed, “The sons of my Shen Family do not marry unless they are the primary spouse.”

In the midst of this overwhelming headache, His Majesty summoned me.

When I entered for the audience, a familiar figure was standing by his side.

“My dear minister, the Empress’s nephew wishes to file a complaint against you for abandoning your husband and breaking your promise.”