The Tyrant Awakens His Mind-Reading Skills and Wants Me to Be Born All the Time

When the imperial concubine coquettishly begged for favor, I knelt at the end of the crowd in the harem. I wanted to plant my head into the ground, "Don't look at me, don't look at me, don't look at me." But I didn't expect the careless voice of the tyrant on the high seat to come, "You, come to bed tonight." I was confused, with disbelief written all over my face. Me? Is it me?