Court Official

I was in the middle of feeding the pigs in my village when I suddenly saw a Danmaku.

[Is this bystander the villain’s younger sister?]

[She still thinks she’s an orphan. She has no idea that the villainous Chancellor is actually the brother she got separated from back then.]

[It’s a pity the villain lost to the male lead. He’s about to hang himself.]

[The villain only became an official to find his sister in the first place. If they could just meet once, maybe he wouldn’t have to die.]

What?!

I immediately sold my pigs to scrape together some travel money and rushed to the Capital overnight.

I knocked on the gates of the Prime Minister’s Mansion.

A pale man draped in a heavy cloak stood at the entrance, his gaze deep and haunting.

I lunged forward and threw my arms around his legs, wailing, “Brother! Wang Ergou from the village is trying to force me to marry him!”

In the Fifth Year of Taiyuan, at the Start of Summer, a princess died in the Beiliang Royal Palace.

And a toad.

Anping was that unfortunate princess.

And I was that unfortunate toad.

Fortunately, since her death, I have become her.

It was the fifth year of our engagement, and Meng Cijun still refused to marry me.

The first time he turned me down, he said the King was placing great importance on him, so how could he indulge in the trivialities of love?

That made sense, so I nodded and waited another two years.

The second time he turned me down, he said that since the King had yet to choose a Queen, how could a mere subject like him marry first?

That made me angry. I felt the King was being completely unreasonable-I had waited so long that I was practically an old maid, yet he still wouldn’t allow Meng Cijun to marry me?

Meng Cijun and I had a fight. In a fit of pique, I left home, only to rescue a palace official who was trying to end his life by the river.

One of the girls selected for the draft had run away, and Wang Shiguan was so distressed he was ready to jump into the water.

“If I enter the palace, will I be able to see the King?”

Wang Shiguan looked at my hair, which was not yet pinned up in the style of a married woman, and my youthful face. He nodded with delight.

“Of course! If you find favor, you’ll see the King every single night!”

“Alright then,” I said, nodding as I gathered my skirts and stepped into the carriage.

Once I saw that King, I intended to ask him exactly why he wouldn’t let Meng Cijun marry me.

“Miss, if you leave, how am I supposed to explain this to Master Meng?” Xiao Tao asked, panicked.

I thought about it for a moment, then pulled back the curtain and waved a hand.

“Just tell Meng Cijun that Ah Wu is still mad at him and won’t be coming home for dinner tonight!”

I am the most indolent concubine in the Imperial Harem.

The Emperor is currently reading my Annual Slacker Report.

“This year, your name tag was flipped nineteen times. Of those, you were intercepted thirteen times. You actually served in the bedchamber six times, during three of which the Emperor couldn’t perform.”

“This year, you knelt over a thousand times. You called the Noble Consort a ‘bitch’ over ten thousand times, but the number of times you actually said it to her face was zero.”

“Do you remember the Mid-Autumn Banquet?”

“The talent you performed was balancing a pot of wine on your upturned backside, which resulted in half a month’s stipend being docked.”

“This year, your rank and salary have seen no change from last year. In fact, this situation has persisted for three years now.”

“Your keyword for this year is ‘Trash.’ Please keep it up next year.”

Oh no. Am I about to be slacked all the way into the Cold Palace?

I drunkenly took advantage of the New Top Scholar. The next day, I waved a hand and offered him compensation.

To my surprise, he turned around and grabbed a rope, intent on hanging himself. I hurriedly promised him gold, shops, and a grand mansion.

He let go of the rope only to try and bash his head against the wall. I held him tight, refusing to let go. “A rank three position in two years, and entry into the Grand Secretariat in three!”

He silently drew a blade. I was completely out of options. “Could it be… you want This Princess to take responsibility?”

He sheathed the knife, lowered his eyes, and whispered, “…That would suffice.”

The world says that Cheng Xiu, the Director of the Eastern Depot, is sinister, cruel, treacherous, and ruthless.

The world is right.

I have always been competitive to a fault. When my elder sister from the legal wife fainted, I shoved the Regent Prince aside and carried her back to her chambers myself.

When my elder sister from a concubine fell into the water, I outstripped the Young Marquis to rescue her and bring her to shore.

When the Second Prince was about to win at pitch-pot, I fired two arrows simultaneously into the ears of the pot, snatching first place for myself.

At a palace banquet, Zhao Wangjian-who grew up with me-bet that I wouldn’t dare kick the Neighboring Country Prince in the backside. I laughed; there was nothing in this world I didn’t dare to do. I followed the prince into a small grove, but when I woke up, I was lying beneath Cheng Xiu.

He asked if I wanted to marry him.

Who would have thought? It turns out there actually is something in this world I don’t dare to do.

For three nights in a row, my maid said the same thing in her sleep:

“It seems one of the chickens in the backyard is missing.”

I simply assumed she was exhausted from her daily chores and thought nothing of it.

That was until we encountered a landslide on our way to the Capital. My maid was killed in the disaster, but I was rescued by soldiers who arrived just in time.

Trembling and lost, I sought out the commanding officer, intending to reveal my true identity as the daughter of the Provincial Commander.

He glanced at the maid’s clothes I was wearing and suddenly asked:

“Are the hens still brooding lately?”

On the day of the poetry gathering, someone teased Pei Yi’an. “Brother Pei has already been plucked by Princess Zhaoyue, unlike the rest of us who are still solitary figures. I truly envy you.”

Pei Yi’an suddenly flared up in anger. “Princess Zhaoyue and I share nothing but the bond of teacher and student. There is no other possibility in this life. Do not speak such nonsense.”

My younger sister chuckled softly in my ear. “Sister, did you hear that? Young Master Pei has no feelings for you. Stop being so sentimental and making a fool of yourself.”

I put away the jade pendant I had intended to give to Pei Yi’an and replaced it with a poem.

Then, I gave my sister a sharp slap across the face. “I’ve heard exactly what you wanted me to hear, Sister. Thank you for the lesson.”

Later, when I sought out others to consult on my studies, Pei Yi’an took it upon himself to offer me his tutelage.

I looked into his eyes and said indifferently, “I’m afraid of the wagging tongues of others. I wouldn’t want you to tarnish my reputation, Teacher.”

Father Emperor is a transmigrator, and I have been able to hear his inner thoughts since the moment I was born.

[Huh, so this is the future villainess? She’s so soft and adorable; how did she end up turning out so wrong? No, I have to protect her. My daughter can only be the lead heroine.]

In the beginning, that was exactly what he did. He taught me self-respect and self-love, told me not to depend on men, and said that girls could hold up half the sky.

But later, things changed. He looked at me with eyes full of loathing, claiming I didn’t have a shred of the decorum expected of a young lady, and forced me to kneel in the Buddhist hall to copy Buddhist scriptures. And I could no longer hear his inner thoughts.

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.