Political Intrigue

Liu Yin survives by refusing to be ashamed: after her husband sells her, her song wins Prince Chen’s favor and carries her from the streets into the heart of imperial power.

Between a calculating prince, a brilliant consort, a former husband who never stopped protecting her, and a court that despises her origins, she learns to turn every humiliation into leverage.

When death leaves her holding the imperial brush, the woman once dismissed as secondhand goods must defend a child emperor and rule a realm that never meant to make room for her.

My mother had been a pawned wife, passed through many households and made to bear many sons.

When age took her beauty and she could no longer have children, she opened a wife-pawning house of her own and began selling other men’s wives.

One spring day, a carriage stopped outside our shop.

A handsome young scholar stood there with tears reddening his eyes.

“Mother,” he said, “I’ve come to take you home and give you a life of comfort.”

The newly appointed imperial scholar claimed he was one of the sons she had borne, and he had returned to repay the gift of life.

The daughter of the Yong’an Marquis Estate had committed a grave breach of etiquette within the palace, accidentally shattering a relic of the Late Emperor.

Furious, Grand Princess Anping ordered her to be seized and brought back to the Princess Manor immediately.

That night. The Heir of the Yong’an Marquis Estate knelt at the foot of my steps.

I reclined on my daybed, my fingertip tapping rhythmically against the armrest.

My gaze swept slowly over him, tracing the line of his brow, his Adam’s apple, and the breadth of his shoulders.

After a long silence, I finally uttered a single word: “Strip.” Those slender hands, which had once composed the most brilliant of essays, trembled as they reached for the buttons of his slate-blue official uniform.

I could hear the Noble Consort’s thoughts.

Inside her head, she cursed the emperor: “That decrepit bastard!”

“He’s much better at lecturing me than he ever is in bed!”

I looked up in shock.

She was nestled sweetly in the emperor’s arms, feeding him a slice of pear.

Inside her head, she was still raging: “Would someone please poison him already?”

“I’m so damn tired of serving him…”

On the day Ran Ling returned to the capital in triumph, his long-lost first love was brought back to him.

She had once cast aside reputation and status to elope with him, and he had once taken a sword for her.

Everyone said the star-crossed lovers of their youth would finally get the happy ending they had been denied.

But I wasn’t worried, because my mother had transmigrated into this novel—and I was a devoted mama’s girl.

It didn’t matter what anyone schemed against me; I was the hollow rose my mother had raised.

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.

I am the most ill-fated princess in history.

Widowed young, my homeland was invaded, I was carried off to a foreign land, and after suffering endless humiliation, I died at the age of twenty.

When I woke up, I thanked heaven it had only been a dream.

But then my maid told me that Father Emperor had betrothed me to the doomed Cheng Su.

In an instant, dream and reality overlapped…

Thinking of Cheng Su’s beautiful face, I steeled myself and made my decision.

“Tell Father Emperor I refuse this marriage!”

My mother was a woman from another world.

Right beneath my imperial father’s nose, she taught me that all people are equal and that women hold up half the sky.

Because the emperor doted on her, he made an exception and let me, a princess, attend the imperial school.

Once I learned to read, everything became clear.

I understood exactly why my brothers fought for the throne.

For six years after marrying into Xiping Marquis Manor, I spent six years a living widow.

My husband was stationed at the Northern Frontier, yet somehow found time in the midst of his duties to fall madly in love with another woman.

She was beautiful and strong, able to ride tall warhorses, wield a long spear, and read the art of war.

She fought shoulder to shoulder with my husband on the battlefield, killing the enemy.

The people and soldiers of the border city all called her the General’s Lady.

As for me, the true General’s Lady, no one even knew I existed. She was the eagle of the Northern Frontier.

I was a sparrow trapped in the inner courtyard.

But disaster was already creeping closer.

My mother taught me that a concubine could only live well by pleasing her husband until he cast aside his wife for her.

But I discovered that the lawful wife was beautiful, kind, and—most importantly—rich.

So I switched sides without hesitation and asked, “Madam, may I work for you instead?”