The Noble Consort Hua Transmigrates Into a Book: Giving Big Ruyi a Stick of Red

Before the bitter bowl of apricot kernels from the Cold Palace had even warmed in her throat, Nian Shilan opened her eyes and found herself inside a gilt-edged copy of Ruyi's Royal Love in the Palace.

Her new identity was that of an obscure minor noblewoman. Without Nian Gengyao, the mighty tree that once sheltered her, she still carried a head full of harem scheming tactics from Empresses in the Palace. Peeking through the window lattice, she saw Empress Fucha as stiff as a porcelain statue, Gao Xiyue making a racket like someone with no brains, and, most irritating of all, Consort Xian Ruyi. Ruyi lowered her eyes, pretending not to compete, but the stubborn glint in them reminded Nian Shilan of Zhen Huan, the woman who had once infuriated her to no end.

“Tsk.” Nian Shilan applied rouge before a bronze mirror, rolling her cinnabar-painted nails between her fingers as she sneered. “Back then, I watched peach blossoms at the Old Summer Palace. Now I've got a new stage to watch you all perform your harem intrigues.”

But the rules of this new stage didn't sit right with her. Gao Xiyue's bratty behavior was too stupid, Jin Yuyan's scheming too obvious, and even Ruyi, whom everyone held in such high esteem, was far too dull in her forbearance.

“A Rod of Crimson,” she murmured, turning a golden hairpin in the candlelight. “I gave one to Xia Dongchun back then because she was too loud. This time...” The tip of the hairpin pointed toward the window, in the direction of Ruyi's palace. “I think I'll slowly let that Ulanara woman have a taste of it.”

After all, the red in this palace was either the red of a phoenix crown and bridal robes, or the red splashed across stone paving. Now that Nian Shilan was back, she couldn't let that red be too plain.