After Hearing the Tyrant's Thoughts, the Cannon-Fodder Palace Maid Shows Her Rebellious Streak

After dying, Fu Yao, a top special agent from the thirty-fifth century, transmigrates into a little palace maid of the same name by the tyrant’s side. A nightmare from the start: she serves him personally and even shares a room with him. It’s like dancing at the gates of hell! In the face of despair, she unlocks the ability to read minds, and the tyrant’s complaints start scrolling through her head nonstop~ To stay alive, Fu Yao swallows her defiance and turns into his loyal little toady. Until one day, the tyrant is so furious that he tries to throttle her, but he’s the one who feels the pain! Fu Yao whistles. “Oh? That’s a thing?” From then on, she lets loose completely, mouthing off to heaven, earth, and the tyrant, brazenly daring him to bring it on and hurt her back. The tyrant is furious but has nowhere to vent, so he can only quietly cool down. After she earns merit protecting him, the tyrant suddenly confesses his love. Fu Yao loses her first kiss and is pursued by him from then on. She stages an escape every day, only to be caught every time, and sighs at the heavens. Back at the palace, the two are inseparable, making the whole harem burn with jealousy and send one hidden attack after another. She laughs coldly and takes them on, overcoming one challenge after another until she is named Noble Consort. Then one day, an envoy from Nanjiang arrives in the capital, and a white-haired high priest falls to his knees, crying, “We welcome the princess back to her rightful place!” The peerless sword appears, a spirit serpent reveals itself, and her lost memories suddenly return. It turns out she is the exiled princess of Nanjiang, burdened with a blood feud. The tyrant grips her wrist, dark currents surging in his eyes. “I don’t care who you are. You won’t escape me in this lifetime.” Prince Duan blocks her way with his sword, smiling obsessively. “A Wu, this time you won’t get away, even if you grow wings.” Fu Yao draws her sword with a swift motion, her defiant spirit ringing loud and clear: “I’ll claim my own throne, avenge my own grudges, and as for men, ” She glances back with a smile and pulls the tyrant by the collar: “I’ll choose one for myself, too.”