She woke up with no memory and was taken prisoner.
A snake-like man fed her bugs, then threw her into the imperial palace to serve as a stand-in for the crown princess.
Fine clothes and good food were nothing. The real deal was living with her head on the line.
Her husband, the crown prince, was supremely noble, yet surrounded by a chilling aura, cold as ice and wicked as a demon.
Her perfect rival was adored by the emperor and empress dowager, wise and kindhearted, and breathtakingly beautiful.
She was furious! She was miserable!
There were too many tears to tell the whole story of her life.
The palace intrigues never ended, and political power struggles came one after another, giving her so much to think about she was going bald.
Humming a tune as she charged against the wind, she planted her hands on her hips and shouted without fear:
“Let the storm rage even harder! I’ll crush the lot of you beasts into dust with my own hands.”
