The Noble Girl Dyed with Ink Is Reborn

In the late Southern Song Dynasty, Neo-Confucianism was prevalent, and women regarded chastity and tranquility as a virtue. Wang Kui was born in a Lin'an Shili family. In her previous life, her husband Lu Wenyuan and her concubine Wang Rong conspired to frame her because of her poetic talent. She was slandered as a "woman interfering in politics". She was eventually abandoned by her family when the Mongolian city was destroyed and died in the rebellion. Reborn three years ago, Wang Kui woke up full of poems and deep-seated hatred. She found herself standing at a fork in the road of fate - three months later, Lu Wenyuan would come to propose marriage in the name of "Taste Poems and Discuss Taoism", and this marriage was the starting point of the tragedy in her previous life. What's even more fatal is that once the poems in her mind that can change the situation of the war are published in advance, they will be judged by the clan elders as "devil words to deceive the public." Wang Kui must find a balance between "hiding the edge and guarding the clumsy" and "using poetry as the blade". She used her past life memories to accurately predict Lu Wenyuan's every calculation, and used the poems he taught her to set up a trap to make the hypocrite make a fool of himself in public at the poetry meeting. At the same time, she secretly contacted Shen Mo, the only scholar from a poor family who was kind to her in her previous life - the young man who knocked on the bamboo hut three times and begged her to come out to fight against the Mongols. But Shen Mo regarded her as a scheming and poisonous woman in this life. Wang Kui must make a choice between revenge and redemption: continue to use Shen Mo's trust to complete his chess game, or risk exposing the secret of rebirth and let him see the unchanging poetic heart under his broken soul? When the rain of arrows from the north penetrated the plaque of the academy, Wang Kui finally dipped his pen in ink and wrote sentences on the city wall that were sharper than swords. At that moment, she understood that true rebirth was not about revenge, but about letting the hand holding the pen finally hold another equally lonely pen.