Lu Zigang watched “his” hand tremblingly lift up—that thin palm covered with bloodstains. This wasn’t his body at all.

Lu Zigang’s frantic mind finally calmed down, deducing he must have encountered some inexplicable phenomenon, witnessing events from over a thousand years ago.

Wasn’t this like a mirage? But what he encountered was obviously stranger than a mirage—not only seeing clear images but also hearing clear dialogue. He heard “his” body speak intermittently, finally understanding how this situation came about.

This Zhicong had arranged to meet this little girl in the mountains, wanting to dissuade her from entering the palace to serve the emperor. But the two had an argument, and whether the little girl accidentally pushed him off the cliff or he slipped and fell, in such a place, calling for help would go unheard. Expecting this girl, only the size of a middle schooler, to carry him out was simply impossible.

Lu Zigang silently thought that modern technology was truly wonderful. At this moment, pulling out a phone to call 110 or 120, with mobile networks covering the globe, there would absolutely be no situation where heaven and earth wouldn’t respond to your calls.

Lu Zigang could only see what this Zhicong saw and hear what he heard—beyond that, he could do nothing. So when he felt the visual scene becoming increasingly blurred, he knew this Zhicong was in poor condition, probably at death’s door.

After pondering whether there was anyone named Zhicong in history and finding nothing, Lu Zigang couldn’t help but laugh self-mockingly. This boy was only fifteen or sixteen years old, just the son of an ordinary merchant, and about to die—how could he possibly leave any trace in history?

His vision became increasingly hazy. In his confusion, Lu Zigang suddenly heard the girl’s final words.

“Meeting the Son of Heaven—who knows if it won’t be a blessing…”

Lu Zigang’s heart shook. This famous saying, this little girl’s background, at this age… Could it be that the little girl he had just witnessed was Wu Zetian before entering the palace?

But time didn’t allow him to think more. His consciousness was again swallowed by the bright yellow vortex. The last image he saw was that underage Wu Zetian reaching toward him, slowly closing the eyes of the boy named Zhicong…

This time the darkness didn’t last too long. When Lu Zigang opened his eyes again, he found himself not in the previous wilderness but in an incredibly understated luxurious chamber.

What is understated luxury? Things that appear unremarkable on the surface, but upon closer inspection reveal extraordinary refinement. Every decoration is carefully considered, exuding unique elegance throughout.

When Lu Zigang opened his eyes, his first reaction was still that he was on some movie set, but then he saw a familiar face.

Having guessed this woman was Wu Zetian, Lu Zigang deliberately examined her carefully. He saw this woman had beautiful, captivating features, long eyes full of charm, jade-like skin whiter than snow. She wore court robes, her hair styled in a flying immortal topknot, adorned with tortoiseshell hairpins, with exquisite makeup. The eyebrow paint she used was no longer the shabby copper black but the deep blue-green peacock head black imported from the Western Regions, painted in elegant misty eyebrows. She looked to be in her twenties, no longer having that fresh young girl feeling from before. She seemed completely transformed, filled with confidence and pride like a thorny rose.

Ancient Chinese painting emphasized spiritual resemblance over physical likeness. No one could reconstruct these historical figures’ true appearances from abstract ancient paintings, so Lu Zigang dared not even blink, trying hard to imprint this scene in his mind.

Everyone knew about “Yan thin, Huan fat”—”Yan” referred to Zhao Feiyan from Emperor Cheng of Han’s time, “Huan” referred to Yang Guifei from Emperor Xuanzong of Tang’s time. Han valued thinness as beauty, Tang valued plumpness—both rather extreme aesthetic views. Fortunately, in early Tang times, there wasn’t yet the concept of fat beauties. Wu Zetian truly looked breathtakingly beautiful, absolutely not inferior to any celebrities or idol stars seen on television.

Truly worthy of being the empress Wu Zetian. Looking at her age, she should now be twenty-five or twenty-six, still Tang Taizong Li Shimin’s talented lady. Lu Zigang remembered clearly that Wu Zetian was named a talented lady at fourteen and given the name “Meiniang” (Charming Lady). Having read widely since childhood and being accomplished in poetry, literature, and calligraphy, she had always served in the imperial study handling documents. This service lasted thirteen years, with a position equivalent to Tang Taizong’s executive secretary. She had daily contact with memorials and documents, reading books and classics exclusively for the emperor. It could be said that Tang Taizong was Wu Zetian’s political enlightenment teacher. Without these twelve years of accumulation, there would have been no later Empress Wu Zetian.

But what was the current situation?

Lu Zigang discovered that the future Wu Zetian, currently Talented Lady Wu, was standing against the wall several steps away, while his current body was weakly leaning against a chair back. As before, he still couldn’t control the body—only see and hear. Lu Zigang only knew he had possessed a woman’s body when he saw a jade hand painted with red nail polish in his field of vision.

“He—he—” The woman called Shulian, whom Lu Zigang had possessed, made weak struggling sounds from her throat, obviously having been poisoned mute by someone with some drug. Unable to make sounds or stand up to escape.

Watching Wu Zetian step by step approaching him, Lu Zigang felt cold from his heart’s depths. Thinking of that unlucky fellow named Zhicong before, who seemed to have been possessed in his final minutes before death, could this Shulian also be near death?

Wu Zetian had no idea this body had changed souls. She reached out her hand, gently caressing Shulian’s cheek, her beautifully curved lips speaking chilling words: “Making someone die silently in this palace is really too easy. I don’t want to disappear inexplicably, nor do I want to wait like this without any future. So I can only inconvenience you, Shulian…”

Lu Zigang looked at Wu Zetian up close and felt she was stunningly beautiful.

What secret had this Shulian learned that could make Wu Zetian relentlessly poison her personally?

Lu Zigang suddenly thought of something. In the twentieth year of Zhenguan, Tang Taizong was already seriously ill, so state affairs were handed over to Crown Prince Li Zhi to handle. Thereafter the crown prince held court every other day, attending to medicine and meals after morning court. Wu Zetian, responsible for court document correspondence, began contact with Crown Prince Li Zhi, both serving at Taizong’s sickbed. These two were similar in age with daily contact. Li Zhi admired Wu Zetian’s political insights, while Wu Zetian wanted to stake her future on Crown Prince Li Zhi. With mutual affection, something happening wouldn’t be too strange.

Thinking this Shulian should be a palace maid in the imperial study who accidentally discovered the affair between Li Zhi and Wu Zetian, provoking Wu Zetian to strike first.

Lu Zigang understood these matters in an instant and couldn’t help sighing. In “Complete Tang Poems,” there was Wu Zetian’s “Ruyi Niang”: “Looking at red and seeing blue, thoughts in confusion, haggard and scattered from missing you. Don’t believe I’ve been constantly weeping—open the box and check the pomegranate skirt.”

Such dazed, confused lovesickness naturally wouldn’t be written for Tang Taizong Li Shimin, already lingering on his sickbed, but only for the current crown prince, future Tang Gaozong Li Zhi. How could such a talented, capable woman not be both lovable and fearsome? She had laid low in the imperial study for twelve years before grasping this thread of hope—naturally she wouldn’t let anyone block her path.

Wu Zetian gazed into Shulian’s dying eyes and for an instant seemed to see some clear light, but when she looked more carefully in surprise, Shulian’s pupils had already dilated, losing focus and quickly becoming hollow.

It must have been her imagination.

Wu Zetian confirmed Shulian had stopped breathing before sighing in relief. About to turn and leave as if nothing had happened, she felt those staring eyes were quite piercing and couldn’t help reaching out to close her eyelids with her hand.

Lu Zigang was very excited because when he awoke again, he found himself lying in a cradle. From the babbling sounds to the chubby little hands raised to his mouth for gnawing, plus the surrounding furnishings, he was certain he had this time possessed Wu Zetian’s legendary little daughter who died in infancy.

He discovered he had possessed three people in total. The first two weren’t recorded in history books, but the one he now possessed was clearly recorded in historical texts and extensively written about in unofficial histories. Though neither “Old Book of Tang” nor “New Book of Tang” recorded the little princess’s death, Sima Guang’s “Comprehensive Mirror to Aid in Government” clearly pointed out that Wu Zetian personally killed her own daughter, then framed Empress Wang.

Even tigers don’t eat their cubs—a mother killing her daughter was shocking, but Wu Zetian would do far more than this in the future. Brothers, sons, sons-in-law, nieces, nephews, grandsons… she had indirectly or directly ordered the killing of them all. So in Wu Zetian’s concept, using a newborn daughter to exchange for the empress’s throne should be quite worthwhile.

Lu Zigang understood his situation, and his excitement gradually settled.

After Tang Taizong’s death, Wu Zetian went to Ganye Temple to become a nun. Empress Wang had found her as a puppet to counter Consort Xiao Shu. Unexpectedly, this seemingly harmless woman could stir up tremendous waves in the rear palace, even threatening her empress position. Lu Zigang could even be certain that Empress Wang had already come to see the little princess, and soon Wu Zetian would arrive here to do something heaven and earth wouldn’t tolerate.

Wu Zetian should already be thirty-two years old. For a woman of this age to still receive Li Zhi’s exclusive favor in a rear palace full of beauties meant she could only be using sophisticated methods others couldn’t match. Lu Zigang thought that in these thirty-plus years, Wu Zetian had probably killed quite a few people, but he had only possessed these three, indicating that due to that miniature wordless stele carving, his soul had somehow recreated ancient early Tang period scenes. Each possession lasted about five minutes, and these three people were all personally killed by Wu Zetian—others who died indirectly weren’t included.

The boss had once said that Tianhuang stone hadn’t sparked collecting fever during the Tang Dynasty and had been mostly used for burial since the Northern and Southern Dynasties. Could that wordless stele carry the resentful souls of those killed by Wu Zetian, and he happened upon it, only able to see images and hear sounds, experiencing it like watching a movie?

Though such experiences probably no one else in the world had enjoyed besides him, Lu Zigang still couldn’t help feeling somewhat uncomfortable. Though the first two people he possessed had no relationship with him and had been dead for over a thousand years, he still watched helplessly as they died. Possessing the bodies of dying people, he couldn’t remain unmoved.

Especially now, when he was in a small baby who couldn’t even turn over or sit up. How could Wu Zetian bring herself to harm such a fragile child?

Lu Zigang actually admired Wu Zetian greatly. Perhaps this reverent psychology existed deep in many people’s hearts. Looking at China’s five thousand years of history, Wu Zetian was the only legitimate female emperor to ascend the throne and rule. Though there were women like Empress Lü before and Empress Dowager Cixi after who held absolute power, those were all for personal gain and disrupted court politics. But Wu Zetian was a successful politician—stabilizing frontiers, developing the economy, striking against aristocratic clans… The rise of prosperous Tang also included her contributions. Without inheriting Tang Taizong’s political concepts and methods, the weak Tang Gaozong alone could never have created such achievements. Even later Tang Xuanzong continued Wu Zetian’s political accomplishments. Even the harshest historians only criticized Wu Zetian in historical records for corrupting the palace and allowing cruel officials to run rampant—relatively minor crimes.

But could beautiful goals justify despicable means?

Lu Zigang knew he was being naive. Go players all knew that sacrificing pieces was a necessary tactical method—not only in chess but also in war, in court, throughout the realm.

No one wanted to become a sacrificed piece. That Zhicong—if he hadn’t been pushed off the cliff by Wu Zetian, he might have become a successful merchant with his own career and family, living happily. That Shulian—if she hadn’t been poisoned by Wu Zetian, she might have reached marriageable age, left this man-eating palace, found a good family to marry into and lived peacefully. And this little princess he now possessed—if she could grow up safely, she might have become another Princess Taiping or an extraordinary woman no less than her mother.

The more Lu Zigang thought, the more uncomfortable he felt. Being confined in a strange body felt increasingly odd, and he couldn’t help wanting to break free. At this moment, he could vaguely hear muffled voices outside the hall, knowing Wu Zetian had probably returned.

Wanting to struggle to leave here, Lu Zigang was amazed to discover the small baby he possessed was actually waving her hands according to his will. This was different from the previous two times when he could only see and hear. Perhaps because this young body’s soul didn’t yet have much of its own will, Lu Zigang could easily control it.

But Lu Zigang was still powerless—after all, this small baby could barely turn over. Where could he escape to?

He heard a series of clear jade ornament sounds as an elegant, noble woman appeared before Lu Zigang. She wore a light yellow silver mud cape with five-colored pheasant patterns, a deep blue court robe with vermillion silk-bordered sleeves, her hair in a celestial topknot, adorned with nine jade hairpins, painted with cloud-brushing eyebrows using Persian spiral shell black—already the top eyebrow-painting material of this era.

Wu Zetian looked somewhat more prosperous than the last time, but her expression was very grave. Lu Zigang met Wu Zetian’s complex gaze and knew she was engaged in fierce internal struggle over whether to use her daughter to secure her future.

But obviously Wu Zetian didn’t have much time to hesitate. Lu Zigang watched that hand painted with red nail polish reach toward his neck. The scene was like a deliberately slowed horror movie, making him instinctively cry out in alarm. Of course, when he opened his mouth, it was only a baby’s wailing, but before it could break through his throat, Wu Zetian covered it first.

For the first time, Lu Zigang had the feeling of being murdered. Though in some sense he had already died twice, the previous two times he awakened already in dying states. This time he was truly witnessing the scene of “his” murder.

But no matter how he struggled, he couldn’t change this reality. Gradually his vision became increasingly blurred. Lu Zigang looked deeply at Wu Zetian so close before him, wanting to imprint this moment in his mind—including that teardrop sliding from her eye.

Wu Zetian watched her own teardrop fall and strike the small baby’s now-still pupils. A deep sadness surged from her heart. She raised her hand to close the child’s eyes and broke into sobs.