I was reborn as the Princess of Lanling, and I knew he would be poisoned to death in five years. I fought by his side using what I knew about political science, only to discover that saving him was easy. Saving myself was much harder.
Zheng Wantang, a 28-year-old PhD in political science specializing in the collapse of Northern Qi’s power structure, died suddenly in the library on the eve of her dissertation defense. When she woke, she had become the principal wife of Gao Changgong, the Prince of Lanling, a woman whose name had not even made it into the history books.
She knew history well: in five years, the emperor, Gao Wei, would force the Prince of Lanling to drink poisoned wine. Her own fate was recorded as “details unknown, possibly died for love.” She resolved to use everything she knew to rewrite their endings.
But Northern Qi was no dissertation. There was a foolish emperor, treacherous ministers who smiled as they plotted, female officials wielding power over the court, and a husband who regarded her with both distance and suspicion. She had to tread carefully, maneuvering through court politics and battlefield strategy, bringing down corrupt ministers and supporting a new ruler.
Yet she soon discovered that changing history was ten thousand times harder than studying it. Every victory came at a price, and any ally could be sacrificed. But the greatest challenge was not the game of power. Once she truly fell in love with the man behind the mask, could she still think rationally? Could she bear the possibility of losing him?
