Political Intrigue

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.

“Fine. I’ll marry him.” I raised my hand from behind the other princesses.

Father had many daughters, but his favorite was Princess Changning, his eldest and the only daughter born to the Empress.

I was the most inconspicuous of them all; Father had probably forgotten I existed.

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 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?”

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 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…”

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.

On the eve of my wedding, my elder sister handed me a cup of fruit wine and drugged me unconscious.

I awoke half-dressed beside my brother-in-law.

My reputation was ruined overnight.

My fiancé broke off our engagement before dawn.

My parents were bitterly disappointed in me.

They bundled me into a little sedan chair and hurried me off to become Liang Yanxiu’s concubine.

My sister later died of illness.

Liang Yanxiu never made me his lawful wife.

The world praised him for his undying devotion to my sister.

I spent my life neglected and scorned.

As I lay dying, I overheard my parents whispering with my nephew, who had just placed first in the imperial examinations.

“Your mother was gravely ill and feared there would be no one to care for you after she died, so she drugged your aunt’s wine. Looking back, it was the right decision.”

My nephew’s voice choked with tears.

“Now that I have taken first place, Mother can finally rest in peace.”

I died in disbelief, the last breath torn from my lungs.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the banquet on the eve of my wedding.

My sister stood before me, smiling as she offered me that cup of fruit wine.

I had been an unfavored princess since childhood.

My mother was the daughter of the Defender-General, and since no man in the entire realm dared marry her, entering the palace had been her only choice.

She had not even become empress.

She was merely a consort—not even a Noble Consort.

That was because her personality was simply too fierce.

Without the title “daughter of the Defender-General,” I reckoned she would have died eight times over by now.

By rights, with the might of her family behind her, my imperial father should at least have pretended to dote on me.

I was wrong, for he had dozens of pretty, obedient, clever, adorable, lively, cheerful, and mischievous princesses of every conceivable kind.

As for me, when I was born, fate had randomly assigned me the role of “the slow one.”

In the twelfth year after my rebirth, the first thing I did upon leaving the Xie estate was visit my grave from my former life.

It lay alone in the wilderness, with Qingming as cold as winter and weeds growing ten feet high.

I added a shovelful of fresh earth and told myself, “Ah Lan, don’t look back. Keep walking.”