The unluckiest thing that ever happened to Shen Qingqing was probably dying three times in a row. The first time, she was killed by a hail of arrows; the second, she fell victim to political scheming; and the third, she was taken out before she even got a taste of peace.
When she opened her eyes for the fourth time, she had three skills at her disposal: medicine, poison, and martial arts. Determined to steer the tragedy’s source, Ye Lingxiao, back onto the path of a “wise ruler,” she disguised herself as a palace maid and snuck into the palace to get close to the future warmonger. She even devised a “How to Win Over a Tyrant” plan: use plum wine to stir his childhood memories, seek an “accidental” meeting at the military camp with sesame crisps, talk about the people’s hardships over calming tea, and slip little notes saying “fight less, eat more sweets” into his snack box.
But everything went hilariously wrong. The wind scattered the crisps she meant to deliver, her attempt at a chance encounter ended with her tumbling into Ye Lingxiao’s arms, and while giving the Empress Dowager acupuncture, she even made her snore. More absurdly, the supposedly cold-hearted tyrant secretly tucked her “anti-war notes” into the pouch he kept close to his person. He even brought the osmanthus cakes she had made to court and told the ministers, “They taste better than the enemy’s armor.”
When the Empress Dowager became her “best wingwoman,” urging Ye Lingxiao every day to “marry A Qing and bring her into the palace,” Shen Qingqing finally realized that perhaps she wasn’t the one winning over the tyrant. Some emperor, all bluster and soft-hearted underneath, had long since followed the sweetness of candied fruit and turned her “peace plan” into a “plan to marry her.”
In a time of chaos, sweetness has nothing to do with romance and moonlit scenery. It means someone is willing to trade their ambition to conquer the Central Plains for a home, the two of you, three meals a day, and a lifetime’s supply of plum wine.
