Politics

My father rebelled, and I became the most honored legitimate princess.

No, wait-the Grand Tutor said it’s not rebellion.

How can it be rebellion when it’s the act of a founding emperor?

It was the descent of the Imperial Star, the gods and buddhas blessing the people, rescuing the masses from misery!

As the Grand Tutor taught, one should say:

The previous dynasty was tyrannical and unjust, the common people were in a living hell, suffering unbearably. My father the Emperor led a group of righteous men in uprising, successfully ended the chaotic times, and established the Great An Dynasty.

So I, an ordinary farmer’s wife in the previous dynasty, inexplicably became the one and only legitimate princess of the An Dynasty.

That’s right, I’m married, my husband is alive and well, I have both a son and a daughter, my life is happy and fulfilling, and for years I’ve topped the list of happiest young wives in the village.

Before becoming a princess, my biggest worry was that my son didn’t like meat and only ate vegetables, while my daughter didn’t like vegetables and only ate meat.

Now my biggest worry has become: being a legitimate princess and all that-I have no experience with it…

I served at the Empress Dowager’s side for twenty years as her chief palace maid.

Steady, dignified, respected by all.

No one knew.

I had borne two children for the Son of Heaven.

Only on her deathbed did the Empress Dowager discover our secret affair.

She held my hand, seeming to sigh.

“Silly child. You kept this from me for so many years.”

“I will issue an imperial decree at once and have you enter the palace as a consort, so mother and children may be reunited.”

In my previous life, I truly did enter the palace.

But by then, Zhao Xun already had a Noble Consort he cherished above all else.

He favored me for a time, then cast me aside without a second thought.

Even my own children acknowledged another woman as their mother.

Now, reborn into this life,

I no longer wanted to be his consort.

Beside the Empress Dowager’s sickbed,

I kowtowed heavily. “This servant would never dare presume upon imperial favor.”

“I beg the Empress Dowager for mercy. Please allow this servant to leave the palace.”

Emperor Yuanzhen has ruled Jing for sixty years, while Empress Dowager Xue governed from behind the curtain for thirty-three.

I served as the empress dowager’s personal maid for seventy years—and I know a secret that could overturn the dynasty.

The emperor is not the late sovereign’s son, but a bastard born to the empress dowager and a Sumo barbarian.

Xu Jiao built a merchant empire while funding her childhood sweetheart Song Yin’s path into officialdom.

When she catches him courting a powerful princess and learns he expects her to accept life as his concubine, she ends their engagement and turns her full ambition toward business.

Her talent carries her from imperial supplier to a third-rank official, drawing the respect—and carefully restrained affection—of Crown Prince Xiao Jingyi.

But as court factions close in, Xu Jiao must decide whether love behind palace walls can offer partnership instead of confinement.

Shen Zhuozhuo is the hidden second beauty of a merchant family. After a depraved young marquis abducts and brutalizes her elder sister, then wipes out the Shen household for daring to demand justice, Zhuozhuo survives with one purpose: revenge. Assuming the identity of a scholar’s dead sister, she enters the imperial palace and draws the emperor close, turning her beauty, patience, and even her own body into weapons. To destroy the Marquis of Cheng’en and the Empress Dowager who shields him, she baits each enemy into a trap more dangerous than the last. But when calculated affection meets the emperor’s unexpected sincerity, Zhuozhuo must decide whether vengeance has left any room for a future.

My younger sister eloped with a penniless scholar, and her cold-hearted fiancé broke down my door, demanding that I take her place.

I was so scared I clutched my waistband and begged for mercy.

“Brother-in-law, how can you blame this on me?”

The two cinnabar moles beneath his eyes were as red as blood, and his tone was utterly indifferent.

“An elder sister is like a mother. In other words, every grievance has its culprit, and every debt has its debtor.”

“So, are you coming with me on your own, or am I dragging you away?”

Th-thrilling. Was this the domineering forced-love plot they wrote about in storybooks?

The weak could not fight the strong, so I was just about to get out of bed when I realized my sister had run off wearing the only pair of padded winter pants in the house.

Left with no choice, I lay right back down.

“Forget it. It’s freezing out, so let’s not move.”

“If you’re going to seize me, then seize me. Hurry up, while the blankets are still warm…”

“…”

-A laid-back heroine who sleeps through the abduction x an action-oriented hero who carries on abducting while she sleeps.

“Miaoren, this beauty mark of yours is truly lovely.”

Xuan Changjun lifted my bridal veil. By the light of a small lamp, he reached out and gently brushed the tiny mark at the corner of my eye.

I smiled at him. “Husband, is this beauty mark the only lovely thing about me?”

He did not answer. Instead, he said, “Xuan’er has a beauty mark just like it. It makes her look especially lively.”

I nodded and told him, “Wait a moment.”

Turning around, I fetched paper, brush, and ink from the writing desk and spread them out before him. “Go on. Write it.”

He looked up at me. “Write what?”

I straightened the tinkling jeweled flower in my hair and said unhurriedly, “A divorce letter.”

Xuan Changjun chuckled softly. “Miaoren, there are seven grounds upon which a man may divorce his wife. You have committed none of them, so how could I write such a letter?”

“Oh?” I lazily propped my chin on one hand while scraping the lid of my teacup with the other. “And what are these seven grounds?”

“A wife may be cast out for seven reasons: disobedience to her parents-in-law, childlessness, adultery, jealousy, serious illness, excessive talkativeness, or theft.”

I nodded, rose to my feet, and stood across from him.

“Go fuck yourself!”

I kicked him over. He toppled backward onto the bed and sank into the red silk wedding quilt embroidered with mandarin ducks.

“Y-you… Miaoren! You, you…” Struggling upright, he clutched his chest and stared at me in shock.

Taking up the brush, I neatly drafted the divorce letter for him:

There is now a wicked woman in this household. She is unfilial to her parents-in-law, disobedient to her husband, and disrespectful to her elder brother- and sister-in-law. She is therefore cast out.

“All you need to do is press your thumbprint onto it,” I said. “Otherwise, I’ll turn the entire Xuan Family upside down. Today I kicked you over. Tomorrow, I’ll dare to beat your father, curse your mother, ruin your family’s reputation, and squander your fortune. Changjun, you should simply accept your fate.”

“Miaoren, why are you doing this?” Xuan Changjun had been a scholar before entering officialdom, so he did not panic when trouble arose. Once he had caught his breath, he said, “I only married you because you liked me.”

“Oh, Changjun, that may be the most absurd joke under heaven!” I clapped my hands, sat down in the armchair, and lowered my head to peel a grape. “Do you know who I am? I am the Grand Tutor, an official of the first rank. Even His Majesty must courteously address me as his teacher. And what are you? A newly crowned Literary Champion. What official rank can you even expect to receive? I lowered myself to marry beneath my station, yet you somehow have the nerve to claim I married you because I liked you?”

Xuan Changjun’s face alternated between red and white. After a long silence, he finally managed to say, “Since we are both scholars, you should not use your official rank to lord it over others.”

“You’re a scholar, my ass. You’re clearly a lecherous creep pretending to be some charming libertine. What a joke!” I sneered, then continued, “I’ll tell you the truth. I chose you reluctantly because I thought you were devoted and faithful, which would spare me plenty of jealous squabbles in the future. If I’d known that a beast like you was lusting after his own younger sister, I would have refused even if the emperor himself arranged the marriage. I’d have gone and beaten the emperor too!”

“You… Miaoren!”

“What? Did I say anything wrong? I’d long heard that your younger sister Changxuan looked seventy percent like me-even the beauty mark at the corner of her eye was identical to mine. I didn’t believe it at first, but after seeing her in person, I realized she truly does resemble me.”

“How could you say Xuan’er resembles you? You’re clearly the one who resembles Xuan’er!” His face flushed red with agitation.

“Say whatever you like. The divorce letter is right here. Hurry up and press your thumbprint onto it. I’ll return to my residence at once, and from this day forward, we’ll each go our separate ways.” I gave the flimsy sheet of paper a shake. “Hurry. You’re a grown man, so why are you being so indecisive?”

Even as I was leaving, he still called me Miaoren.

I told him, “Lord Xuan, I happen to love throwing my rank around. You’d better address me as Grand Tutor Yu.”

The day I married into the Gu marquis’s household, my father-in-law died and my mother-in-law fell ill.

The wedding feast became a funeral banquet, and I was forced to take charge in the midst of the crisis, assuming control of the household and carrying the funeral through with composure.

My husband thanked me for preserving the Gu family’s dignity, yet never set foot in my room again.

In time, he filled the household with concubines and fathered a brood of sons and daughters by them.

I raised them conscientiously and planned for their futures.

Then I overheard my husband speaking to them behind my back.

“I have never met anyone as coldhearted as your mother. Your grandfather died, and she did not shed a single tear. You may call her Mother, but never learn from her. She is unworthy of the name.”

By then, a physician had already told me I did not have long to live.

Not one of those children came to visit me or bring me medicine; they simply left me to die.

With my last strength, I set fire to the Gu residence and burned that cold, loveless place to the ground.

When I opened my eyes again, I had been reborn.

The Gu family came to propose marriage, and as I looked at the refined, handsome man before me, we spoke the same words at the same time.

“I refuse.”

It turned out I was not the only one who had returned.

The day I died of illness, the entire palace was shrouded in grief.

Only Emperor Yan Lang was not sad; he was merely a bit annoyed.

He was annoyed that half a month ago, because he wanted to invest my sister, Cui Mingshu, as Noble Consort, I had a massive argument with him and had yet to bow my head and admit my fault.

He was annoyed that the tactless officials from the Ministry of Rites were kneeling outside the hall, claiming they did not know how to determine the Empress’s posthumous title, write her biography, or arrange her burial in the imperial mausoleum.

Memorials piled up on his desk like snow on the eaves, as the hundred officials exhausted every flowery word to speculate on the Son of Heaven’s whims.

They suggested posthumous titles like ‘Virtuous,’ ‘Moral,’ ‘Gentle,’ and ‘Respectful,’ yet I was once the woman who, because someone had skimped on Yan Lang’s rations, chased that eunuch through three streets with a knife like a common shrew, cursing him the whole way.

They described my life as ‘noble and carefree,’ yet after his enthronement, he and I did nothing but argue or give each other the cold shoulder.

It seemed I was always crying-always weeping.

When it came to the matter of the imperial mausoleum, Yan Lang finally recalled a sliver of my merit.

Having been husband and wife, he was not stingy in granting me glory after death, graciously permitting me to sleep in the same tomb as him.

Before the vermilion ink of his approval for our joint burial could dry, Aunt Sun, the head maid of Jianjia Palace, was already kneeling respectfully outside the hall. She said the Empress had a final request she wished to be granted.

Yan Lang likely guessed what it was.

In all probability, she wanted to bow her head and admit her mistake, then ask for a grander posthumous title, an honorary rank, and for him to forbid Cui Mingshu from entering the palace.

“The Empress does not wish to be buried with you. “She said this life was too wretched; she never wants to see you again, neither in the blue vault of heaven nor the yellow springs of the underworld.”

Everyone said I was blessed by fate.

Born behind vermilion gates, I rested my head on jade and wrapped myself in brocade.

At three, I began my education, studying essays on how to govern the realm.

At five, I held an abacus, calculating the empire’s grain and coin.

At twelve, I debated the scholars in the clan school and, though I was a girl, took first place above them all.

At fifteen, during my coming-of-age banquet, warlords from three regions offered mountains and rivers as my betrothal gifts.

And yet, I chose the hardest road of all.

The day I eloped with a lowly soldier who guarded the city gate, the entire city laughed at me for debasing myself.

After one night of passion, I was stricken from the Yin Clan’s rolls, my spotless reputation ruined.

No one knew that the soldier was the last surviving bloodline of the imperial house.

They were fighting for the realm.

What I was fighting for was the right to take history’s iron brush in hand and rewrite the world with a name that could not be questioned.