Royalty

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!”

I spent eighteen years in a Buddhist temple.

Eighteen years later, I returned as Princess Chang’an. To compensate me for those lost years, the Empress Mother made a public promise: she would grant me any one thing I desired.

I looked around the room, my gaze landing on Wei Zhao, who shone brilliantly amidst the unremarkable crowd. Pointing at him, I declared, “I want him to be my Imperial Son-in-Law.”

Only later did I discover that Wei Zhao and my younger sister, Princess Kangle, were childhood sweethearts. They were a mere imperial decree away from being wed.

But what of it?

Even if I had known from the start, I still would have claimed Wei Zhao as mine!

Chapter 0

The Princess believed in living for pleasure.

During a palace banquet, I spared a single extra glance at the Crown Prince, and she had him delivered straight to my bed.

“So what if he’s the Crown Prince? As women, we must rise to the challenge!”

Afterward, the Crown Prince demanded that I take responsibility for him.

The Princess blocked me, refusing to allow it. She declared with righteous indignation, “If you give him an official status, how are you supposed to keep having fun in the future?”

Later, when enemy troops surrounded the imperial palace, I rushed to tell her to flee for her life. Instead, I found her in her tent, favoring dozens of male consorts.

“Princess, look at the time! It’s too late!”

She finally realized the gravity of the situation. “You’re right. Here, I’ll share half of them with you.”

And so, I was delayed as well.

Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine that the Hostage Prince from the enemy nation would be among those male consorts.

Just before he was about to be rescued, I ruined his virtue. He was so furious he ground his teeth in rage.

The Princess and I were captured together. Tied behind horses and dragged along the ground, we were sent to the Great Yan Palace.

To scratch out a living, I confessed my love to the Hostage Prince, claiming I only took his body because I loved him, and begged for his protection.

Unexpectedly, the Princess stepped forward and said, “You fool, you actually believe that? To her, you’re just one of-”

The Hostage Prince drew his sword on the spot, demanding an answer: “Exactly how many men have you had before me?”

“I’m truly done with you! Princess, you’re my living ancestor! Aren’t we unlucky enough already?”

I was so enraged that I coughed up blood and died.

The Princess, however, was so notoriously debauched in her speech and conduct that the enemy soldiers wanted to humiliate her, yet they feared she might actually enjoy it. Left with no other choice, they allowed her to live out her final years in peace.

Carrying my corpse on her back, the Princess declared that since she could no longer seek pleasure in the days to come, she would rather die. She threw herself onto a sword and ended her life immediately.

Reborn into a new life, I have returned to the day I entered the palace to save her.

The Emperor brought a beauty back from Jiangnan and declared his intention to make her his Empress.

I adamantly refused.

“Empress Dowager, why? She and I share such a striking resemblance; it’s a sign we’re meant to be!”

You have the nerve to say that? You’ve gone and dug up the illegitimate daughter I hid so far away!

Crown Prince Bai Xiuzhu had been afflicted with the Southern Border Love-Forgetting Gu.

Every time he clawed his way back from the brink of death, he would forget the person he loved most. The first time, he forgot his mother.

The second time, he forgot the marriage vows we had exchanged before Heaven and Earth at the border.

The third time-after I had slit my wrists to feed him my blood and save his life-he sat high atop his throne in the Hall of Golden Chimes and personally marked my death warrant with a stroke of vermilion ink.

The Seventh Prince became an outcast.

For four years, I followed him as his servant, never leaving his side through thick and thin.

Later, he ascended to the highest position in the land.

Everyone thought my days of suffering were finally over and my rewards were at hand.

But then, the New Emperor took the Chancellor’s Only Daughter as his Empress.

Some sighed with pity; others watched for the drama to unfold.

Yet, not a single ripple of emotion stirred in my heart.

Because the one I love was never him to begin with.

I drunkenly took advantage of the New Top Scholar. The next day, I waved a hand and offered him compensation.

To my surprise, he turned around and grabbed a rope, intent on hanging himself. I hurriedly promised him gold, shops, and a grand mansion.

He let go of the rope only to try and bash his head against the wall. I held him tight, refusing to let go. “A rank three position in two years, and entry into the Grand Secretariat in three!”

He silently drew a blade. I was completely out of options. “Could it be… you want This Princess to take responsibility?”

He sheathed the knife, lowered his eyes, and whispered, “…That would suffice.”

I am the empress of six different countries.

It’s hilarious, really. Since I’m so neglected, no one has even realized I’m just working part-time.

So, I took on a seventh.

Little did I know, this emperor wants to unify the world.

Me: “There are seven of you. Why are you the only one being such a handful?”

On the night I was crowned Empress, Lu Yuheng personally handed me a cup of Poisoned Wine. He said that since the Ye Family’s name had been cleared, I should spend one night as a glorious Empress before going to meet my kin with a clean slate. But what he didn’t know was that the most painful wound of my life was never death-it was him.

My lady was injured and lost her memory. She forgot everyone, yet she remembered my husband.

My husband was once a beggar.

During a heavy winter snowfall, he lay by the roadside, covered in blood and filth.

Passersby all steered clear of him, but my lady alone ordered her carriage to stop and took him in.

From then on, he stayed in the manor to tend the horses for her.

My lady often visited him under the pretext of checking on the horses.

I saw the deep, lingering affection in their eyes with my own.

But how could a young lady of her status ever marry a horse slave?

Heartbroken, she told him:

“I cannot marry you.

“But I will find someone to take care of you in my stead.”

My lady personally betrothed me to him.

Later, the lowly horse slave found his way back to the imperial capital and reclaimed his identity as a prince.

I, in turn, became his legitimate consort.

On the day of the investiture, I was waiting.

I knew.

Sooner or later, my lady would come back to reclaim what was originally hers.