Reborn and Not to Be Messed With, the Whole Palace Must Call Me Ancestor

In the winter of Yongchang's nineteenth year, on a snowy night in the Cold Palace, Empress Jiang Zhao had three feet of white silk waiting for her.

Only before her death did she learn the truth: the empress's throne she had won through ten years of scheming for her husband was a cage. Her sister, whom she had protected for ten years, smiled as she told her that the blood of all ninety-seven members of the Jiang family had been the first move Xiao Yu made after ascending the throne.

When she opened her eyes again, she was sixteen, three months before the selection of imperial consorts.

In this life, she wouldn't vie for a reputation as a virtuous woman or hope for the emperor's favor. When her sister urged her to feign illness and avoid the selection, she smiled and agreed, then turned around and sold her sister out completely. When the Third Prince offered to take her as a secondary consort, she said, "Become a concubine? Then I'll go to the palace and enter the selection myself."

On her first day in the palace, she saved the aunt who had broken her back for her in her previous life. On the seventh day, she turned the tables in a witchcraft conspiracy and had her "dear sister" strapped to the torture bench and beaten twenty times. The lowest-ranking Lady of Talent dealt the loudest face-slap.

Everyone in the palace understood: this reborn former empress was a living ancestor no one should dare offend.