Hey everyone! ?? If you love adorable and unique items, check out my Etsy shop, AdorableThingsByNoen! ?? Every purchase means a lot, and I truly appreciate your support!

  Even a like, follow, or share means the world to me! ?? Thank you for your love and support! I know seeing this every time I update a novel can be repetitive, but this is like my side hustle, so I hope you don’t mind me sharing it.

  ___

  Jiang Shuyi remained in a daze for far too long, not saying a word. Pei Yan, seated at the edge of the bed, finally ran out of patience. He tapped his knee with his fingers and said, “Jiang Fei, you’re being too insolent. Kneel.”

  He didn’t think his tone was particurly harsh, but upon hearing those words, Jiang Shuyi’s eyes turned red, as if shocked by his reprimand, and tears instantly welled up.

  Pei Yan paused, suspecting he might have spoken too sternly. Just then, Jiang Shuyi suddenly burst into tears and stumbled toward him, barefoot in her thin nightclothes, her hair loose and disheveled. She threw herself into his arms and hugged his waist tightly, sobbing, “Your Majesty…”

  It was at that moment that Jiang Shuyi fully realized—she had been reborn.

  The pain, suffocation, and deep resentment she felt before death had not yet faded. She didn’t know how such an impossible thing had come to pass in the blink of an eye, but without question, she felt a rush of joy and relief.

  She had once lived a life as a pampered consort, just behind the Emperor and the Empress Dowager in the pace hierarchy. How had it all spiraled so terribly out of control? She’d gone mad, hurting others and herself, ending up imprisoned… and finally dying at the hands of her own sister.

  To see Pei Yan again as the first person upon rebirth, her heart was truly filled with joy.

  In the two years before her death, when she was confined in Zhaoyang Pace, even her dowry maids had left the pace to marry. Only Pei Yan remained by her side.

  He often told her that people outside cursed her as a wicked enchantress and that she must not go out. He would be her only support for the rest of her life.

  Over time, Jiang Shuyi had come to rely on him more and more.

  Just moments ago, she had genuinely considered telling him everything that happened before her death. But the moment she heard the words “kneel,” she snapped back to her senses.

  Not yet.

  During her five years as Jiang Fei, Pei Yan merely favored her; it hadn’t yet reached the point where he would abandon the rest of the harem and protect her regardless of right or wrong.

  If he heard such nonsense now, at best he’d think she was lying to deceive him; at worst, he might see her as a possessed creature and have her seized—then it would truly be over.

  Suppressing her tangled emotions, Jiang Shuyi looked up at Pei Yan with tearful eyes and choked out, “This concubine had a nightmare… I was so frightened. Please, Your Majesty, don’t make me kneel. Will you hold me instead?”

  Pei Yan lowered his eyes to look at her, his shes quivering slightly.

  It was the middle of the night, and both of them had just woken up. She wore a soft, thin sleeping robe of pale lotus color that clung to her delicate frame. A few faint pillow marks still pressed into her fair face. She knelt between his legs, hugging his waist with a pitiful sob, begging for comfort.

  Pei Yan, without realizing it, reached out and gently caressed her cheek. His tone softened. “Tell me what you dreamed. Then I’ll hold you.”

  Jiang Shuyi had no idea what year it was, nor what had happened just before they shared the bed. Afraid of saying something that might give her away, she whimpered and feigned distress. “I dreamed that Your Majesty didn’t want me… and I was bullied to death…”

  Pei Yan paused, then curiously asked, “Who bullied you? Was it your sister? Or Yu’er?”

  Jiang Shuyi nearly thought she’d misheard.

  Her eyes flew open, and she clutched his robe tightly, her voice trembling with excitement. “Y-Your Majesty… how do you know?”

  Could it be—he was reborn too?

  The next moment, Pei Yan’s lips curled faintly. “You were talking in your sleep. You cursed them both.”

  He didn’t seem to be lying. After a moment of dazed silence, a wave of bitter disappointment surged in Jiang Shuyi’s chest.

  She had hoped that Pei Yan had come back with her—then she wouldn’t need to lift a finger for revenge. He would take care of everything.

  “All right,” Pei Yan said, leaning down to embrace her. He gently patted her back, comforting her in a warm tone. “Go back to sleep. Your sister will enter the pace tomorrow. You’re probably just overly excited and had a ridiculous dream.”

  Tomorrow, Jiang Wanqing enters the pace!

  Even as she y back on the bed, Jiang Shuyi’s ears still buzzed.

  That meant this was ten years ago, right after she had given birth to Pei Yu.

  Jiang Shuyi couldn’t help feeling a little broken. If Heaven was going to let her live again, then why not a year earlier—just one year would’ve been enough. That way, Pei Yu wouldn’t have been born, and Jiang Wanqing wouldn’t have had the chance to enter the pace at all.

  But now the die was cast. Jiang Wanqing might still be manageable, but what about Pei Yu? She couldn’t simply push him back into her womb—was she supposed to raise him again? That was impossible. Just the thought of that child made her feel suffocated and repulsed. All she wanted was to stay as far away from him as possible.

  (Transtor Xiaobai: Given that her son was maniputed into turning against her, I understand why she feels betrayed. Since she has just returned and been given a second chance, her feelings toward him may change. I know she sounds very cold towards her own son right now, especially considering he is still just an infant.)

  She didn’t sleep a wink that night. It wasn’t until dawn approached that drowsiness finally overtook her, and she drifted into a light slumber, only to be awakened not long after.

  “Your Highness! Time to freshen up and head to Kunning Pace. Today is Third Miss’s entry into the pace—you mustn’t be te like on ordinary days!”

  Jiang Shuyi blinked open her bleary eyes. She turned her head and saw that the space beside her was already empty.

  According to pace rules, consorts were supposed to sleep on the outer side of the bed so they could rise easily at night to serve, fetch water, or avoid disturbing the Emperor. But Jiang Shuyi had always been afraid of the dark and felt safer sleeping on the inner side. Pei Yan had allowed it, and even when he left for morning court, he rarely woke her.

  She sat on the bed for a while, her gaze sweeping across the hall. When her eyes nded on Jinzhu’s face—the maid she hadn’t seen in two years—she finally confirmed it wasn’t a dream. She had truly been reborn.

  Jinzhu noticed nothing unusual and came forward cheerfully to help her off the bed, smiling broadly. “Now that Third Miss is entering the pace, Your Highness will have an ally in the harem. And if she gives birth to a prince, then our little prince will have a brother to support him—how wonderful!”

  Jiang Shuyi’s expression darkened immediately.

  She had brought two maidservants with her as part of her dowry—Jinzhu and Yuzhu. Jinzhu was clever and bold, while Yuzhu was gentle and cautious. In her past life, Jinzhu had been loyal to Jiang Wanqing through and through, often whispering simir things to her. Back then, Jiang Shuyi hadn’t believed her own younger sister would ever harm her, and so she assumed Jinzhu meant well too. But hearing it now, every word grated on her ears.

  Ally? She was already a favored consort. She didn’t ck supporters. There were so many—Miao Zhaoyi, Rou Pin, Feng Meiren—too many to count, all willing to act as her bdes.

  And what did Jiang Wanqing do after entering the pace? She cried all day, speaking of threats and hidden enemies, feeding her sister endless dread.

  Then, once Jiang Shuyi was riled up enough to take action against those supposed threats, Jiang Wanqing would suddenly cim she was too timid and scared to be involved, leaving her to fight alone.

  As for Jinzhu’s second comment, it was even more absurd. Let Jiang Wanqing’s son support Pei Yu? There was no such thing as brotherly affection between princes. More likely, they'd fight to the death for the throne one day.

  Jiang Shuyi came to a halt and turned her gaze toward Jinzhu, her tone cold and stern: “Where in this pace is there a ‘Third Miss’? This is the imperial court. She is now His Majesty’s person—Jiang Guiren. And you, saying such things about allies and support—if a pace servant overheard and reported it to His Majesty, it could cost both your head and mine.”

  Jinzhu was stunned. She had served Her Highness for over ten years and had never been scolded like this. She could hardly believe it.

  What was wrong with what she said? His Majesty adored Her Highness—he wouldn’t care even if he overheard! Why was Her Highness suddenly so picky and harsh? Could it be that backstabbing little sneak Yuzhu had been speaking ill of her behind her back?

  Then Jiang Shuyi recalled something else and frowned. “Did I previously order the eastern wing of Zhaoyang Pace to be cleaned and prepared for Jiang Wanqing?”

  “Yes!”

  Jinzhu perked up instantly and smiled again. “Once Third Miss—oh, I mean Jiang Guiren—moves in, Zhaoyang Pace will be lively again. You two sisters reunited, spending your days together—that’s a blessing the other consorts could only dream of!”

  Jiang Shuyi was already annoyed just hearing her voice.

  Lively? Oh, it would be lively all right—lively enough to kill.

  She didn’t bother wasting more words. After washing up and changing, she boarded the shoulder carriage and headed toward Kunning Pace.