"The day I was sent to the palace, I knew I was a stand-in for the late empress. When the emperor was drunk, he called her name. When he was sober, he looked at my face. It wasn't until I found old records that I learned every time a 'virtuous empress' of the Qing dynasty died, a lowborn woman who looked just like her would be chosen to 'receive the emperor's favor' and then buried with her... So I wasn't a shadow. I was a sacrifice." In the spring of the twentieth year of Qianlong's reign, the crabapple blossoms in the Forbidden City looked somewhat faded. A small blue sedan chair was carried silently through Shenwu Gate and stopped in front of a secluded palace courtyard. The curtain lifted, revealing a plain, delicate face. Her brows were dark without makeup, her lips red without rouge, and most striking of all were her eyes...
Dream of the Red Chamber Sign-In: From the Start, I Was Fed Sterilization Drugs