Political Intrigue
Unbroken by Frost and Storm
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.
Princess’s Journey: Fuyun Favors Familiar Faces
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!”
The Chime of Orchid Porcelain
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.”
My Mother Transmigrated into a Novel
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.
Years of Grace
Imperial Father has six daughters.
I am the fifth.
Mother Consort was once a kitchen maid at the Hall of Mental Cultivation.
She received the Emperor’s favor only once in her life, and that one night gave her me. She treasured me above all else.
When I was seven, Noble Consort Lan framed her for infidelity, and she died.
A few months later, by every means at my disposal, I became Noble Consort Lan’s “adopted daughter.”
The Good Concubine
During the years I spent as a concubine in Changning Marquis Manor, I humbled myself in every possible way to win Marquis Shen’s favor, stooping low and fawning over him without shame. In the end, he still gave me away as easily as one might hand off an object.
And yet, one day, his eyes would redden as he murmured by my ear, “Shiyi Niang, I miss you so much I’m going mad.”
Hah. Men.
Grand Princess Anping
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.