Shen Qingci had died once.
On the execution ground, flames licked at her skirt. Her stepmother was smiling, her half-sister was smiling, and so was the man she had once believed she could entrust her life to, the Third Prince, Zhao Yuanjing.
Before the blade fell, she heard herself say, "If I get another life, I won't be a good person. I'll only be a winner."
When she opened her eyes again, she was fifteen, on the day before her marriage was to be arranged.
Her stepmother was busy pushing her into a pit of fire, her half-sister was waiting to laugh at her, and the scummy emperor was still plotting how to exploit her dowry.
And the cold-faced general who had been the only one to bring her a bowl of hot soup in her previous life was riding past the back gate of the Shen estate.
This time...
Breaking off the engagement wasn't enough. Face-slapping was too easy.
She would make her enemies kneel and beg for mercy, leave the scumbag with nothing, and make the whole capital remember:
The Shen family's legitimate daughter wasn't a pushover. She was a deadly flower.
You ruined my life once. I'll make sure you know no peace for three lifetimes.
