The back of my head throbbed as if someone had struck me with a blunt object. I struggled to open my eyes. Before me was a shabby bed canopy. No, it wasn't really a canopy, just a few yellowed rags hanging from bamboo poles. When the wind blew through, they swayed back and forth like the tongues of hanged men.
Where was I?
A flood of memories that weren't mine poured into my mind, as if someone were dumping garbage into it. Shen Yun Zhao, the empress of the current dynasty, had just been deposed and sent to the Cold Palace. And me? I was a wage slave who'd fallen asleep on the subway after working overtime.
I'd transmigrated.
And landed in some godforsaken Cold Palace.
"Oh, you're awake?"
A shrill voice came from the doorway. I turned to look. A eunuch stood there, holding a bowl, a malicious smile on his face. Two palace maids stood behind him, wearing much the same expression: the smug delight of people thinking, You're finished.
"Your Majesty, it's time to eat." The eunuch set the bowl on the table with a thud, splashing soup everywhere.
I propped myself up and sat down. My head was killing me, but I could still make out what was in the bowl: a serving of cloudy rice water with a few grains floating in it and, mostly, some unidentifiable scraps. They wouldn't feed this to a dog in an ordinary household, let alone to an empress.
"This is it?" I asked, my throat as dry as sandpaper.
"What? Do you still think you're the empress?" The eunuch laughed, his voice sharp and shrill. "His Majesty has already issued the decree deposing you. You're a disgraced woman in the Cold Palace now. You should be grateful to get anything to eat."
