Limit to 500 words. There was an imperial concubine in Kyoto, who was born noble and extremely favored. She likes to wear red clothes, has a pretty face, holds a long whip, and is ruthless. Everyone respects and fears her.
At the age of 15, she had 100,000 soldiers and went down in history as the first princess to hold military power. On the day she took over the military power, her father gave her a word, Chu Family Zhaoyang, and she would be honored and favored for the rest of her life.
She married Ji Huaien, the eldest son of the prime minister, at the age of 16, but the prince-in-law died suddenly on their wedding night. She was not implicated and remained noble.
When she was 18 years old, the world was in turmoil. She was bold in her methods, but she was still losing ground.
She was besieged in the imperial capital when she was 19 years old. That year she lost her favorite father and young lover. That year, she ascended the throne as emperor in troubled times.
That year, she chose to marry her cousin Chu Annian, who was obsessed with her, and they stayed together for one night.
After being besieged for three months, she jumped off the tower wearing her most beautiful red dress.
A short life of nineteen years was enough for people all over the world to remember this woman for the rest of their lives.
The beauty has passed away, and no one dares to say anything unreasonable about this woman who is so charming. Because it is rumored that she is the woman whom the new emperor Ji Huaiye loves deeply.
She is the emperor of the generation, Zhaoyang of the Chu family.
Her Zhaoyang Palace is still filled with the sound of singing and opera every day, which is the princess's favorite ditty.
Her Zhaoyang Palace was sealed, and it was still the most glorious palace in the palace, but it would no longer welcome the next owner.
When the Night Emperor was dying, his last order was to burn down the palace with fire.
According to legend, Chu Qi, the war god of the Chu royal family, loved this girl very much.
According to legend, this woman. . . . .