She had died once.
In her previous life, she ascended the throne at twelve and spent fifteen years as a puppet empress. The consort who cherished her most served her poisoned wine with his own hands. Her beloved younger sister watched with a smile as her kingdom fell. Her three-year-old daughter, Yaoyao, died in her arms, leaving not even a body behind.
When she opened her eyes again, she was back on the night she ascended the throne at twelve.
The dragon throne was cold, and the court was full of wolves. The empress dowager ruled from behind the curtain, her uncle held power, corrupt ministers dominated the court, and enemies surrounded the realm.
But this time, she would be no puppet.
Step by step, she would send every person who had harmed her straight to hell.
She would reclaim her kingdom with her own hands.
But
Why did the powerful minister who had poisoned her with his own hands in her previous life look at her as though he wanted to devour her whole?
Why did the aloof, ascetic tutor keep draping his robe over her shoulders late at night?
Why was the unruly God of War willing to bow his head and pledge his loyalty to her?
Why was the sickly, obsessive head eunuch as obedient as a dog in her presence?
Why was the hostage prince from the enemy kingdom willing to risk his life to protect her?
And why did her childhood companion, who had always followed behind her, look less and less like a subject as he grew up?
The whole court’s finest men fell at her feet, all driven mad for her.
But she knew that the most dangerous, most ruthless man, the one who should never love her, was the one who had truly laid the path for her in this life.
