In the capital, from members of the imperial family to ordinary people, everyone knew that Princess Yan Qingxiang of Zhaohua and Rong Hao, the young heir of the Marquis of Ningyuan, were sworn enemies who clashed at every turn.
Until one day, Yan Qingxiang saw in her dressing mirror a strangely dressed young woman who looked seven parts like her and called her an ancestor.
Yan Qingxiang: Wait! I don't think my ears are working properly. Who did you just say I married?
Rong Xuantong: Um... Rong Hao, the Marquis of Ningyuan.
Yan Qingxiang: Me??? And that bastard Rong Hao??? You have to be joking!
Rong Xuantong held out a book with a pitiful look. "Ancestor, your love story is all written down in the history books! Look! There's even a picture of your marriage contract. It's in a museum now."
Yan Qingxiang: Huh? That really is my handwriting!
