The Imperial Master, who had calculated all the secrets but died with hatred, woke up in the fire and returned to three months ago when the truth about the substitute was revealed and his death date had not yet come. In this life, she burned her hexagrams and abandoned her official position and ran away, vowing to break away from fate and the king's palm. However, under the warm sun in the mountain village, she was fiercely hugged by the tyrant who had traveled all over the mountains and rivers to find him. This time, what was surging in his eyes was belated regret or another elaborate love conspiracy?
