In her previous life, my elder sister, Shen Zhiwei, entered the palace as a consort. She schemed and plotted, only to end up with a cup of poison and a lonely death in a cold cellar.
And I, Shen Yuwei, her younger sister, was forced to take her place in a political marriage, only to be tortured to death by a spoiled playboy.
When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to seven days before the selection.
My sister begged me through tears, “Yuwei, that place devours people.”
I held her hand and laughed wildly. “Sister, go elope with that gentle, refined Sixth Prince. I’ll deal with the emperor, the supreme ruler in the palace.”
After entering the palace, I neither respected Buddha nor worshipped the gods. I shot an arrow that stunned everyone at the archery grounds, infuriating the Empress Dowager so much she nearly blew a fuse.
The emperor cornered me in the imperial garden. “Shen Yuwei, what kind of demon are you?”
I raised an eyebrow. “Your Majesty doesn’t like obedient puppets, so I’ll have to be the one who tears up the script.”
Later, my sister and the man she loved roamed the world together, free and happy.
But that arrogant emperor pleaded with me, eyes red-rimmed. “Awei, could this vast empire make you turn back and look at me just once?”
In this life, I’ll be the cinnabar mole in the emperor’s heart, impossible to remove and impossible to forget.
