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AuthorBai Yu Zhai Diao Gong

Before her death, Qunqing hated nothing more than the powerful minister Lu Huating—hated him for supporting the new emperor, for his treacherous schemes and ruthless maneuvers. She plotted against him day and night, exhausting every means at her disposal, yet never once gained the upper hand. In the end, she was nothing more than a pawn, discarded by his hand. After her death, she saw the fallen princess she had protected with her life, weeping as she clung to the new emperor’s chest. “Qingqing is dead—what am I going to do?” The new emperor kissed her. “You’ll be fine. Love only me.” Tears streamed down the princess’s face like rain over a delicate flower. “Qingqing is dead. I have only Your Majesty left.” When Qunqing opened her eyes again, she had awakened—three years in the past. She rose, numbly packed her belongings, ignored the princess’s attempts to stop her, tore off her jade coronet and trailing ornaments, cast aside the wooden seal of her office, and turned away. Along with it, she abandoned ten years of careful maneuvering, ten years of walking on thin ice. Restore the kingdom? To hell with that. Lu Huating, the power minister—profoundly calculating, brutally decisive—had cut an invincible path through the political maelstrom. Having long grown weary of human ugliness, he found this lifetime dull and meaningless. Looking back, the only thing that left any impression on him was a female clerk he had poisoned to death at the age of twenty-six—a spy. For the sake of a love-blinded princess, she had given everything, scheming against him time and again. On that final day, she knelt before the palace hall in the height of summer, her expression unchanged, her eyes full of unwillingness. With a smile, she sighed, “The winner takes all,” then tipped her head back and drank it down in one gulp. Blood spilled from her lips, thin and vividly red. When Lu Huating opened his eyes, he had returned to his twenty-third year. Staring at the official document