I transmigrated into a palace-intrigue novel as the Crown Princess.
To protect myself, I schemed to make the Crown Prince fall into the water, then jumped in to save him myself.
From then on, I was left with a “chronic illness” and became a bona fide “sickly invalid.”
I used it as an excuse to claim I was ill and stay in my rooms all day.
The Crown Prince felt guilty. Not only did he forbid any of his concubines from disturbing me, but he also had every item sent to my palace thoroughly inspected by the imperial physicians.
And so I lived peacefully in the Eastern Palace for three years.
Until today, when the Crown Prince brought the original heroine to serve me tea.
“Dongyi, this is the new concubine I’ve taken.”
She offered me a cup of tea with both hands. The liquid was so dark and murky that something clearly seemed wrong.
So it had finally come to this.
Too bad for her: I’m a sickly invalid now.
