Schemes And Conspiracies

After my ex-boyfriend, Gu Yanzhou, died, his will specifically named me as the one who had to read it aloud. He left me one billion in equity, three video recordings, and a final message: “Don’t be so quick to hate me. Among the people sitting across from you tonight, there is one who killed me-and your brother.”

On the eve of my wedding, my biological father, stepmother, and fiancé conspired to commit me to a mental asylum.

My crime? Being so “insane” that I attacked someone with a knife.

Three years later, I was discharged with a ten-billion-dollar inheritance that requires only my signature to claim.

Everyone expects me to still be a lunatic, but this time, I’m going to make them pay.

While I am at my most lucid, I will reclaim the lives, the money, and the truth they owe me, one debt at a time.

I am the most indolent concubine in the Imperial Harem.

The Emperor is currently reading my Annual Slacker Report.

“This year, your name tag was flipped nineteen times. Of those, you were intercepted thirteen times. You actually served in the bedchamber six times, during three of which the Emperor couldn’t perform.”

“This year, you knelt over a thousand times. You called the Noble Consort a ‘bitch’ over ten thousand times, but the number of times you actually said it to her face was zero.”

“Do you remember the Mid-Autumn Banquet?”

“The talent you performed was balancing a pot of wine on your upturned backside, which resulted in half a month’s stipend being docked.”

“This year, your rank and salary have seen no change from last year. In fact, this situation has persisted for three years now.”

“Your keyword for this year is ‘Trash.’ Please keep it up next year.”

Oh no. Am I about to be slacked all the way into the Cold Palace?

Pei Qi traded cities for a beauty, a grand gesture that became a legendary romance. Unfortunately, I was not that beauty, nor was I Pei Qi; I didn’t even know him.

My husband was merely a soldier defending the city. Because he refused to surrender, he died in that war, though the city was ultimately held.

The following year, when Pei Qi traded cities for his beauty, I became that beauty’s Foot-washing Maid.

The Crown Prince’s White Moonlight, the woman he’d pined after for ten years, had finally returned.

She lifted her chin and looked down her nose at me. “You. Go back to where you came from.”

I lifted my skirts and stepped into the carriage, then turned back to smile at her. “Sorry,” I said lightly, “but this seat? You’re never getting it back.”

I spent ten years in the imperial harem testing rouge, and not once did I fail to detect a single trace of poison.

That was until Consort Hua dropped dead after applying the “Drunken Beauty Red” I had personally verified.

It was then that a newly arrived talented lady told me: what truly kills isn’t the rouge, but the intent to murder.

Unwilling to spend my life as a slave, I set my sights on Yun Jian, the young master of a local wealthy family.

Through countless schemes and every trick in the book, I managed to enter the Yun Manor to serve him.

I deceived him for his heart, gathered his wealth, and coaxed him into supporting me so I could travel to the capital for the imperial examinations and become an official.

“I, Jiang Rui, swear to the heavens that when I become a Female Chancellor or a high-ranking minister, I will personally petition His Majesty to grant us a marriage.”

Later, as I navigated the shifting tides of the imperial court, my career soared. I had long since forgotten the son of a mere local merchant.

While playing chess with me, the Seventh Prince would drop subtle hints, asking whether I was already betrothed.

Meanwhile, the Chief Censor-whom I had outperformed in every possible way-caught wind of this. He grabbed the sleeve of my official robes after the morning court session, refusing to let go.

Gritting his teeth, he hissed, “The sons of my Shen Family do not marry unless they are the primary spouse.”

In the midst of this overwhelming headache, His Majesty summoned me.

When I entered for the audience, a familiar figure was standing by his side.

“My dear minister, the Empress’s nephew wishes to file a complaint against you for abandoning your husband and breaking your promise.”

The Emperor’s beloved Noble Consort, his one true love, was dead.

His one true love?

It was almost laughable.

And yet, the rumor had spread throughout all of Dayan.

The Crown Prince fell in love with the Mute Girl who saved him and insisted on breaking off our engagement.

Out of kindness, I advised him:

“The Mute Girl is alone and without support. Why not take her as a concubine first?”

The Mute Girl felt humiliated and, overwhelmed by shame and anger, took her own life.

Ten years later, the first thing the Crown Prince did after securing the throne was to depose me as Empress and exterminate my entire clan.

“This is what you all owe Ruoruo.”

When I awoke again, it was the day of my sixteenth Birthday Banquet.

The person seated at the head of the table asked me what I wished for.

“I only wish for Your Highness the Crown Prince and Miss Liu… to grow old together in harmony, forever united in heart.”

I bowed reverently:

“Your Majesty, please bestow a marriage upon the two of them!”

In my third year as Empress Dowager, my greatest fear is not the court officials, nor the brushes held by the court historians.

It is the moments when I wake from a dream in the dead of night and instinctively call out the name of Xie Wuyang.

As the palace lanterns flicker to life, I am reminded that three years ago, I was the one who personally wrote the secret order sending him to his death at Yanhui Ridge.