In her previous life, she was the strongest account executive in the 21st century, a corporate planning dog who spent every day bouncing between demanding clients and a clueless boss. It honed her mastery of “understanding client needs with pinpoint accuracy (mind reading),” “making presentations look impressive (painting grand visions),” and “communicating in a way that cuts to the bone (passive-aggressive sarcasm).”
She died suddenly in the company conference room at three in the morning. Then she transmigrated into an old-fashioned family-intrigue novel as a cannon-fodder daughter with the same name.
The standard setup: her mother died young, her father never cared for her, her stepmother smothered her with false affection, her half-sister framed her, her fiancé despised her, and in the end she was sent to become the old prince's second wife, where she died a miserable death.
With nothing but a sharp tongue and an unconventional way of thinking, the heroine takes the whole household by storm. Family intrigue? No, it's a one-sided household beatdown. Absolutely no romance: men would only slow down her knife-wielding (and sarcasm). In her eyes, all male creatures fall into one of two categories: troublesome clients or potential sponsors.
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