In my last life, I died in the cold palace, swallowing bitter almonds.
The oriole purse that my mother embroidered stayed with me until the end - her embroidery skills were unparalleled in the world, but she was stepped on by others all her life.
When I open my eyes again, I go back to the three days before the draft.
In this life, I don't ask for favor or sincerity.
I want to do three things:
Let the scumbag father be ruined and die on his knees.
Let the mother who can embroider wear a crown of imperial edict, and no one in the world will dare to bully her.
Give birth to a prince, help him ascend to the throne, and become the queen mother yourself.
The queen wants to use me as a pawn? I made her an outcast.
Concubine Hua wants me to kneel down? I stood and watched her hit the wall.
As for the emperor? Borrow a seed and send him on his way.
I have memories of past lives, a scent that can kill people, and I can imitate anyone's voice.
The most important thing is - in this life, I can live.
This is not a story of sisterly love.
This is a cool story about a woman who was stepped into the mud, was reborn, killed her way through the harem, and became a god on her own.
Open it and you'll see:
Every stitch the mother embroiders is a ladder for her daughter to climb up.
Every drop of blood shed by the scumbag father is a debt repaid by his daughter with a smile.
"In my last life, I didn't even dare to cry. In this life, I want everyone to listen to me laugh."
