In my previous life, after my value had been used up by my Crown Prince brother, I died miserably in the Cold Palace.
Reborn, I chose to marry the sickly, useless prince who was notorious throughout the capital.
Outsiders laughed at me for being blind: I could have married the Crown Prince, the heir to the throne, but instead I chose a medicine jar who wouldn't live three years.
I only smiled and said nothing, quietly watching him fake his illness while controlling the government, then transform into a master of the mystic arts at night to subdue a hundred ghosts.
“Have you seen enough, my consort?” He suddenly turned around, smiling as he lifted my chin.
“Please, Your Highness, carry on. I'll just think of it as a little romantic skit between husband and wife.” I blinked and handed him a cup of hot tea.
Later, on the night the Crown Prince launched his rebellion, he broke through the palace gates in black armor. With blood dripping from his sword, he gently pulled me into his arms.
“What he owed you in your past life, I'll repay a hundredfold in this one.”
