Li Rong’s last words before dying were about Pei Wenxuan, the man who had lived for thirty years with the identity of her husband.

After speaking those words, she lost consciousness. She thought she was certainly dead—Xiang Meiren was such a violent poison, and with her long-weakened body, how could she possibly endure it?

But unexpectedly, after who knows how long, she woke up again!

When she awoke, she was sleeping on a soft, warm bed. Sunlight warmly streamed into her bedchamber, and all around burned the orchid incense she had loved most in her youth.

She opened her eyes groggily and heard a voice both familiar yet somehow distant gently calling, “Your Highness, you’re awake?”

Hearing the voice, Li Rong turned her head. Before her appeared a tranquil, gentle smiling face. The features weren’t exceptionally beautiful but were refined and elegant, appearing to be around twenty-five or twenty-six years old, dignified and composed, overlapping with someone in her memory.

She called out incredulously, “Jing Lan?”

The other person smiled and reached out to help her sit up, saying softly, “It’s already the hour of the Snake. His Majesty just left court and sent someone with instructions, saying he summons Your Highness to dine with him at lunch. This servant intended to wake Your Highness, but you woke on your own.”

Listening to Jing Lan’s words and looking at her surroundings, Li Rong felt quite shocked.

She stood up following Jing Lan’s movements, washing up while observing her surroundings. After washing her face, she finally confirmed—this was Chang Le Palace.

Chang Le Palace was where she had lived before leaving the palace to marry. Jing Lan was the personal attendant who had served by her side back then. Jing Lan had accompanied her from Chang Le Palace all the way to her wedding, and later became the steward of the Princess’s manor.

In her youth, she hadn’t particularly liked Jing Lan, finding her too rigid and straightforward, her words not always pleasant to hear. Instead, she had favored the more clever and flattering Jing Mei. But her mother Empress had liked Jing Lan, so after the Princess’s manor was built, Jing Lan still became its steward.

It wasn’t until she was thirty years old and survived an assassination attempt—when Jing Lan blocked a sword for her and died before her eyes—that she finally understood that some people’s contributions didn’t require words, and their lack of praise didn’t mean they had no merit worth mentioning.

Seeing the living, breathing Jing Lan and this palace from her youth, Li Rong composed herself and finally acknowledged that she seemed to have come back to life.

Moreover, she had returned to her younger years.

She needed to quickly determine what time period this was, but she didn’t want anyone to notice anything unusual. As she washed her hands, she recalled Jing Lan’s earlier words and probed carefully, “Father Emperor summoned me to dine—have you heard what it might be about?”

Although her father Emperor appeared to dote on her greatly, he rarely summoned her for meals. Every time he did, it was a Hongmen Banquet. For instance, when he arranged her marriage, he had also first invited her to a meal.

“This servant doesn’t know,” Jing Lan said, but after thinking for a moment, she added, “However, I’ve heard that some time ago, His Majesty had all the families submit portraits of their eligible young men of marriageable age.”

Oh, so it was indeed that marriage arrangement meal.

Li Rong took the cloth from Jing Lan’s hand. After drying her hands, she raised her hand to have attendants change her clothes. After dressing properly, she picked up a small golden fan from nearby, then stepped onto a sedan chair and headed toward the Taihe Hall.

Memories of the past were somewhat difficult to recall, but with the creaking sounds of the sedan chair, they gradually became clearer.

She remembered that before she turned eighteen, her relationship with her father Emperor Li Ming had been quite good.

She was the eldest princess born to the principal Empress, Li Ming’s first child. From childhood, Li Ming had treated her very well, even better than her Crown Prince younger brother Li Chuan.

She treasured Li Ming’s affection for her because, for some reason in her youth, she had understood early on that when an emperor was willing to treat you well, it was extremely rare and precious. So she tried her best to please Li Ming.

Actually, her nature was mischievous, but because Li Ming often told her that women should be tranquil and virtuous, she constantly restrained herself, working hard to disguise herself as a “tranquil and virtuous” princess.

The better she acted, the more Li Ming praised her, often saying she was the best among all his children, and if only she weren’t a daughter, the imperial throne would be hers.

Back then, whenever Li Ming praised her, she worked even harder. Only later did she understand what it meant to be “praised to death.”

She had unconditional trust in Li Ming.

Normally, a princess should have a marriage arranged by age fifteen, then naturally marry, leave the palace, receive a fief, and establish a princess’s manor.

But when she turned fifteen, Li Ming said he couldn’t bear to have his daughter marry and leave, so he had her stay a few more years. She believed this explanation.

Those few years stretched to eighteen. Her mother Empress began to fall ill, and Li Ming finally decided to arrange her marriage. He gave her portraits of four young masters to choose from. These young masters were all of noble status with handsome features. After much deliberation, she chose Pei Wenxuan, who looked the most handsome.

When she returned and investigated, she was shocked by Pei Wenxuan’s background.

Pei Wenxuan, as a person, actually seemed quite good.

Handsome appearance, gentle temperament, the legitimate eldest son of the noble Pei family from the principal wife—he could even be compared to Su Rongqing, the foremost noble young master of Hua Jing.

But the problem was, he had no father.

It was said that at seventeen, he had achieved the top score in the imperial examinations, but then his father Pei Lizhi suddenly died of illness. His second uncle Pei Lixian used the excuse of mourning to send him back to their ancestral home in Jinling. Three years passed, neither long nor short. When he returned from mourning, everyone in the Pei family, high and low, belonged to his second uncle. They casually arranged an eighth-rank minor official position for him, guarding prison cells in the Ministry of Justice. Anyone with eyes could see that Pei Wenxuan’s days were not going well.

In fact, his status as the legitimate son might not last much longer.

This was equivalent to a fallen household among the nobility. Marrying such a person—naturally she wasn’t willing to accept it.

So she hurriedly inquired about the other three candidates.

These three candidates were Lu Yu, the heir of Marquis Ningguo; Yang Quan, the second son of General Yang; and Cui Yulang, the new top scholar.

She didn’t know until she investigated, and was shocked when she did.

That Lu Yu—rumor had it he was born mentally impaired. His mother had always covered it up publicly, but once the Marquis of Ningguo passed away, this heir’s position would be lost sooner or later.

That Yang Quan was a madman. From childhood to adulthood, he had been steeped in military camps. At seven years old, he wielded a blade to kill. His temperament was violent and tyrannical. Not a single maid around him had survived.

As for Cui Yulang, he came from humble origins. By rights, he shouldn’t have any major flaws, but the problem was this person’s greatest hobby in life was visiting brothels and writing poetry for those courtesans. The man wasn’t bad and could be considered carefree, but what kind of future could he have in official circles?

On this list of husband candidates, among four people, there wasn’t a single one who wasn’t gold and jade on the outside but rotten within. She didn’t know how much effort her father Emperor had expended to compile such an utterly abysmal list of husband candidates.

After investigating all four people’s backgrounds, her heart went cold. That night she went to find her mother Empress. She had originally intended to renege on the marriage arrangement with Pei Wenxuan, but who knew the first thing her mother Empress would say to her was, “You must go through with marrying him.”

Li Rong was stunned at the time, then listened as her mother calmly said, “Right now, the Crown Prince’s influence in court is too strong. Your father is wary. Add to that the maternal family’s power is too great. If you marry someone else with power and influence, your father Emperor will likely be unable to restrain himself.”

“So you must marry him and make it work. Once your brother ascends the throne, you’ll be the Princess Imperial. At that time, if you want to divorce, you can divorce. If you don’t want to divorce but find him displeasing, taking a few male consorts is nothing unusual.”

Her mother’s words shocked Li Rong completely. For the first time in her life, she heard someone tell her that taking a few male consorts was nothing unusual. Her mother reached out and gently placed her hand on Li Rong’s face, saying warmly, “Child, all women in this world suffer. The only way not to suffer isn’t to learn to be virtuous and gentle—it’s to grasp power.”

“You must fight for it, seize it, hold power in your hands. You cannot expect fate to be given to you by others, whether your father, husband, or brothers—you cannot depend on any of them.”

“You’re not young anymore,” her mother’s gaze was calm yet desolate. “I don’t have much time left and cannot protect you. You’ve been clever since childhood. After marrying Pei Wenxuan, what does it matter if he’s inadequate? You are capable. What you need isn’t him as a person—what you need is just this marriage to shield you from calamity.”

“If you don’t marry, your father Emperor will likely be unable to tolerate you.”

So she married.

After marrying Pei Wenxuan, she had already prepared herself to cast aside this useless wastrel and become Princess Imperial on her own. Who knew that after the wedding, when she met this man who was supposedly gentle-tempered, weak and incompetent, and might be eliminated by his family at any moment, she would discover what it meant to be a “smiling tiger.”

She had gained an excellent ally. They used each other, supported each other, and were mutually suspicious of each other. She became Princess Imperial, he became Chancellor. Their marriage was the strongest contract, the oath of their alliance in court.

They coordinated perfectly. This coordination brought her a certain pleasure. In the early days, she had even thought that perhaps they could truly become a married couple, live together, have children, and grow old together.

Until one day, she suddenly discovered that this person had another person in his heart.

This actually wasn’t Pei Wenxuan’s fault. Their marriage had been involuntary to begin with—how could hearts be forcibly bound as well?

She couldn’t say she liked Pei Wenxuan either. It was just that having had hope, when she discovered the truth, it brought a measure of disappointment.

She had always been a proud person, unable to tolerate even a trace of impurity in her marriage. If this was to be a marriage, then both people had to uphold the vow of single-minded devotion. No one could harbor even the slightest other thought.

If there were other thoughts, this marriage shouldn’t be a marriage—it should merely be an alliance.

So from that moment on, she became Princess Imperial Li Rong, and Pei Wenxuan, in her heart, forever became Lord Pei.

Lord Pei had his own white moonlight whom he carefully and cautiously protected through her entire life.

And she found her own diversions. She watched plays, listened to music, enjoyed the pleasures of the world. Later, after the Su family fell into ruin, she fought desperately to rescue Su Rongqing—whom she had also admired in her youth—from prison and settled him in the Princess’s manor. He became what everyone called her first and only “retainer.”

They each had their own lives. This marriage had nothing to do with romance—only the clear-cut, decisive clashing of blades on the court stage.

It began in court and ended in court.

Li Rong sat there in a daze. The sedan chair settled on the ground, and she heard Jing Lan’s voice from outside. “Your Highness, we’ve arrived.”

She gripped her golden fan and raised her eyes to look at the plaque of Taiqing Hall.

Now everything was starting over again…

She wondered—this time, should she still choose Pei Wenxuan?