Ruthless Protagonist

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.

The Prince Consort and I were famously husband and wife in name only.

He lived his life as the Lord Heir, and I lived mine as the Grand Princess.

We resided in separate estates and kept out of each other’s way. Until that reckless little cousin of his entered the capital.

She was a spoiled girl, indulged far beyond measure, relying on the Prince Consort’s protection and affection.

She “accidentally” barged into my study and set a fire that burned an entire room of my cherished memories to ash.

Afterward, she hid behind the Prince Consort, pouting as she complained, “I just couldn’t stand it. She’s already married to you, so why does she still keep a whole room full of portraits of other men?”

Pei Pingjin made excuses for her.

“My cousin was only being overly protective of me. Your Highness, please don’t be angry.”

I nodded. I was the First Princess, standing above tens of thousands. Why should I lower myself to get angry with a little girl?

So as I turned away, I abruptly drew my sword. With a sharp hiss, the blade pierced through the Prince Consort’s palm as he tried to stop it, then cut the little girl’s throat in a single stroke.

During the autumn hunt, my fiancé’s precious first love deliberately shot an arrow through my hair.

The ladies around us went white with shock.

But her eyes reddened, and she shrank behind my fiancé.

“My arrow went astray.

I didn’t mean to hurt her.

But she stood in front of my quarry and wouldn’t move.

Surely she bears some of the blame?”

My fiancé shielded her and shouted at me: “Weapons don’t have eyes.

If you can’t dodge them on a hunting ground, that’s your own incompetence.”

I merely murmured assent.

Then I raised my bow.

Three arrows whistled from it at once.

They pierced the left sides of the pair’s chests and the venomous snake behind them.

The two collapsed into pools of blood, their faces paper-white.

I picked up the snake and gave them a cold smile.

“Why didn’t you dodge?

Didn’t feel like it?”