Power Struggle

When the palace announced that I was being elevated to Noble Consort, everyone in my family looked grim.

Everyone understood the principle that great merit can threaten the throne.

My father’s achievements were already so great that there was nothing left to reward him with.

This rank of Noble Consort was a naked warning.

If I wanted to keep my whole family safe, I had to hand the emperor a weakness of mine-something he could hold over me and use to put his mind at ease.

Father, Mother, your daughter is off to be arrogant by imperial command!

Starting today, I’m going to be the most outrageously overbearing little menace in the harem!

After our entire household was seized, My Lady became pregnant with our enemy’s child.

“What does a mere blood feud over a murdered father amount to?”

Faced with my disbelieving question, she gently stroked her swollen belly.

Her face was full of happiness.

I ruined my face while tasting medicine for the imperial consort.

The consort, acting out of generosity, married me to the Fifth Prince after he had been reduced to a commoner.

The Fifth Prince never liked me.

He despised my ruined face, hated the shame it brought him, and never once acknowledged me as his wife.

I knew how to read the room, so I stayed out of his way as much as possible and tried not to deepen his disgust.

Others treated my ugliness as a humiliation forced upon him.

But I could not bring myself to think of me as something filthy.

Later, after the Fifth Prince clawed his way back up and regained his place among the princes, he gradually won the emperor’s favor.

Everyone came to congratulate him.

Even my parents brought my younger sister with them, hoping to stuff her into the Fifth Prince’s household.

“Aqiao, you can’t possibly serve His Highness in this state.”

“If someone else is going to have her, we might as well make it one of our own.”

“His Highness likes your sister. Don’t believe me? See for yourself.”

The Fifth Prince really did like my sister.

He allowed her to stay beside him, grinding ink, cleaning the inkstone, and keeping him company with her red sleeves and sweet fragrance.

Whenever he brought back gifts from outside, she got a share.

Even the palace rewards were put before her for selection.

Everyone said my sister was bound to become the Fifth Prince’s side consort one day.

She believed it too.

But the Fifth Prince still had not taken her into his inner household.

And I no longer wanted to wait, so I asked for a divorce.

For a moment, the Fifth Prince looked blank.

Then he said lightly, “Are you serious?”

In my second year as empress, I fell ill and was left barren. From then on, I could no longer bear children.

The emperor turned his favor to Consort Zhen and spent ten years doting on her through seven pregnancies.

Then the imperial physician knelt before the emperor and said Consort Zhen did not have long to live.

The moment I fell ill in this life, I already knew the day Consort Zhen would die.

After all, in my previous life, the one who died was me.

My family had been physicians for generations. The blood in our veins could be used as medicine to save lives.

One day, the princess who was visiting Yue City for leisure fell from her horse. In her final moments, with blood draining from her body, the prince consort forced my parents to let her drink their blood.

They had checked the princess’s pulse. She was already beyond saving; no amount of blood could turn back death.

The prince consort said, “If one bowl is not enough, then drain every last drop of blood from your bodies and feed it to the princess!”

My parents were held down by government soldiers and bled for an entire night. My six-year-old little sister was also cut open and made into medicine, dying weakly and miserably.

When the princess awoke and heard what had happened, she cooed, “To be able to save my life was their honor in this lifetime.”

They did not know that the divine-doctor family still had an eldest daughter skilled in witch-doctor arts.

Three years later, the princess became pregnant and suffered every kind of discomfort.

I disguised myself as an ordinary female physician and went to serve at her side during the pregnancy.

After my “careful treatment,” the princess gave birth to a male child, only this child had three faces.

I held the baby in my arms and met the terrified eyes of the princess and the prince consort, then smiled.

“The princess’s life was bought with the blood of three people. Now those three have been reborn and come back to find her. What are you afraid of?”

Qiu Ning had once thought Crown Prince Jin Ye was the man she was destined to marry, until Chu Mumu, a girl who had crossed over from elsewhere, forced him to kneel outside the Study Hall for a day and a night over her demand for a single, lifelong love.

When the imperial marriage finally soured, Qiu Ning still married into the Crown Prince’s residence. From that day on, every tear, every favor, and every tender glance became part of a game she meant to win.

When we loved each other most, Jiang Shen and I promised ourselves three lifetimes together.

Perhaps our hearts were too sincere in that moment, for Heaven actually granted our wish.

In our first life, he and I walked hand in hand through the innocence of youth, stopping only one step short of marriage.

In our second, he was reborn as the Crown Prince, second only to the emperor and above all others, while I became the daughter of an impoverished family. I was imprisoned deep within the palace; he galloped across the battlefield.

In our third, the wheel of fortune turned, and it was I who became the sovereign.

Three lives, three lifetimes. How romantic—and how terribly long.

Long enough for me to become meat beneath another’s knife. Long enough for me to become the butcher.

And long enough for me to be born anew.

His Majesty handpicked three women to enter the palace and help secure the phoenix throne for the woman he loved.

The first was the Grand Tutor’s daughter, steeped in the classics and celebrated throughout the capital for her brilliance.

The second was the general’s legitimate younger sister, peerless with bow and horse and proud to the bone.

The third was me, a woman without powerful kin or scholarly fame, armed only with hands that could manage a household and turn simple ingredients into exquisite food.

On the night before I entered the palace, Grandfather reminded me again and again to keep my head down and stay safe.

I smiled and agreed, yet as soon as I turned away, I wondered why I should.

The learned woman had no respect for her sovereign.

The horsewoman let her mount trample the palace steps.

As for the woman raised to the phoenix throne, she could not recognize a written character if it were as large as a grain measure.

Now that I had entered this game, I did not want safety.

I wanted to win.

Now that I had caught the emperor’s eye, I would not settle for a share of his favor; I would take it all.

Mother often taught me, “A principal wife must have the grace to accept others.”

I was born into a prestigious family as its eldest legitimate daughter. From the day I entered this world, it was destined that even if my future husband was not a prince, nobleman, general, or minister, he would at least be the eldest legitimate son of a family equal to mine in status.

A man destined to inherit his family’s legacy and become the head of his clan was, in all likelihood, never going to be monogamous.

And so, from my earliest childhood until the day I married, I heard the same lesson over and over again: “A principal wife must have the grace to accept others.”

In a secret chamber beneath my imperial father’s former residence, I found a breathtaking woman who claimed to be my birth mother.

She told me my true father was the deposed crown prince who had died long ago in the old capital.

The realm, she said, should have been mine.

But when I finally took the throne, she went mad.