Li Qingli was reborn as the Zhou Dynasty’s Seventh Princess and spent seventeen diligent years as a complete nobody.
Her life motto consisted of just eight words: eat, wait to die, and lie flat forever.
Then, at a palace banquet, envoys from an enemy nation made trouble, and her six brothers all failed her at once:
One was hopelessly lovestruck, one was obsessed with cultivating immortality, one counted wood grain, one studied fingernails, one was a cross-dressing enthusiast, and one was a professional contrarian.
She was forced to step in. One remark, “Good governance begins with making sure the people have enough to eat and wear,”
caught the eye of her father, the emperor, sitting on the Dragon Throne.
The next day, an imperial decree arrived out of the blue: the Seventh Princess was appointed Crown Princess.
To protest, she hung a homemade salted-fish banner at the Eastern Palace gate, with the words:
“Lying flat brings happiness. Getting back on your feet brings trouble. I choose to be a salted fish. Please don’t entrust me with important duties.”
The banner was torn down that very night.
She retaliated by hanging up three more, adding a line in tiny characters: “Whoever takes them down is a puppy.”
The court was in an uproar, and the officials lamented: This girl is unfit for great responsibility!
But...
When floods ravaged Jiangnan, she stabilized the situation in three days with a “Disaster Relief Mutual Aid Points System”;
when the national treasury ran dry, she raised a million with “Royal Development Lottery Tickets”;
when an enemy nation demanded a marriage alliance, she presented an outrageous dowry list: “The Eastern Sea’s pearls must fill the Hall of Supreme Harmony, and Western Regions steeds must circle the imperial city three times.”
When enemy forces advanced, she stood before the troops with a megaphone and played “The Happy Surrender Song.”
The ministers: “...Something seems wrong, but we can’t quite put our finger on it.”
Even stranger, the leader of her personal guard, who was always behind her silently polishing his sword,
turned out to be a fugitive prince from the enemy nation.
On a rainy night, he pressed a dagger to her throat and rasped:
“Your Highness, should I kill you and restore my kingdom, or protect you for the rest of your life?”
Qingli leisurely shelled some sunflower seeds.
“How about you seize the throne, then sign a peace treaty with me once you’re emperor?”
