Li Qingfeng, the ultimate exam grinder, had barely passed the graduate school entrance exam when a driver running a red light killed him. When he opened his eyes again, his chest felt heavy, and a man in imperial robes was pinning him down.
“Wang Yun, what’s gotten into you?!”
The reply was a kick to the chest and a flurry of wild punches, leaving the emperor of the day crying for his mother and heading to court with a swollen, bruised face.
Transmigrated into Wang Yun, daughter of a founding general and the current empress, Li Qingfeng looked at his own breathtakingly beautiful reflection, now missing one crucial part, and gazed skyward in anguish.
“Where’s the System? Where’s my golden finger? What happened to all those promised transmigration perks?!”
All he had was the original owner’s father, a chancellor; her older brother, a general; and the emperor husband he had just beaten into a pig’s head.
Faced with memorials full of endless, pointless drivel, the undercurrents of political intrigue at court, and remnants of the former dynasty eyeing the northern grasslands, Wang Yun slapped the table and sprang to his feet.
“This is right up my alley! Did I memorize all that exam prep for nothing?!”
From then on, the court of the Great Song grew increasingly peculiar. The empress snuck snacks during morning court, complained about paperwork in the imperial study, and ran around the harem wrecking the place with the little ones, all while using modern ideas to reeducate the old fuddy-duddies.
Emperor Liu Qi watched this empress who sometimes beat people up, sometimes muttered about “GDP” and “KPI,” and could even charm the empress dowager into a state of delight. Rubbing his sore eye socket, he fell into deep thought.
Just how many more “surprises” could this woman bring to me (and my empire)?
