Chapter 1: She Entered the Book?

“Princess, please wake up! The Crown Princess had a high fever last night, and the Crown Prince was furious—he’s already gone to the palace to file a complaint.”

Lin Yue, shaken awake, felt a dull pain and tightness in her chest, and couldn’t help but lean over the bedside and vomit. The servant quickly brought a spittoon, rubbing her back gently, while an older woman entered, sighing, “My princess, can’t you just live peacefully? Why must you torment Su Yingyue?”

“Now look what’s happened. The Prince is away from the capital, and the Crown Prince is heading to the palace to accuse you. Who can protect you now?”

After vomiting, Lin Yue felt much clearer. She looked around at the ancient, elegantly furnished bedchamber and immediately sensed something was amiss.

But all she’d done was taste a bowl of wild mushroom soup freshly made by her chef—how could she be so unlucky?

Yet the attire of the two maids and the matron standing before her made it clear: yes, she was just that unlucky.

But why did the name Su Yingyue sound so familiar? Wasn’t that the name of the female lead in the novel she’d heard so many times her ears practically grew calluses?

“Don’t tell me my name is Lin Yue?”

The maid sighed, “Princess, who would dare address you by name now? Only the Crown Prince, who has no respect for propriety.”

“The Crown Prince—is he Xiao Huaijing?”

“That’s right. Just how much did you drink last night? If madam finds out, she’ll be heartbroken again.”

With a crash, Lin Yue felt her mind explode.

Good heavens, she’d transmigrated into a novel.

And not just any novel, but one she utterly detested—the bizarre ancient romance her kitchen aunt listened to for pocket money, the one she always wanted to mute.

Its title was “The Mad Prince’s Love Over the World.” The opening was explosive: the villainess Lin Yue falls for Xiao Huaijing, and since she can’t marry him, she marries his father instead, successfully entering the Prince’s manor when he’s injured and needs a joyous ceremony to recover.

But on the wedding night, the Prince moves to the study, then leaves for the border to fight, gone for three years without returning.

During this time, Lin Yue not only schemes to get closer to Xiao Huaijing, but after he marries his fiancée, Su Yingyue, she forces Su to kneel and wash her feet, makes her stand vigil overnight, and forbids the couple from sharing a room.

Eventually, Su Yingyue collapses from exhaustion. Unable to bear it, Xiao Huaijing goes to the palace and explains everything to the Empress Dowager, who, upon investigation, immediately orders Lin Yue’s death.

If it were just the disgust of sharing a name, she could tolerate it. The real problem was the author’s intent: after Lin Yue’s death, Xiao Huaijing feels reluctant to let her go, and keeps taking concubines to torment Su Yingyue.

This ultimately drives Su Yingyue away; when she’s captured by enemy spies, Xiao Huaijing finally realizes his mistake, sacrifices three cities to get her back, dismisses eighteen concubines, and reunites with Su Yingyue.

They make up, but for vanity’s sake, Xiao Huaijing leads a campaign to reclaim the three cities, resulting in heavy casualties—of two hundred thousand troops, only one hundred thousand return.

What did those lost ten thousand soldiers do to deserve such a fate?

She’d nearly vomited listening to this story, and now, unbelievably, she’d become Lin Yue from the book.

She wiped her mouth, drank some tea to steady herself. As a mature young woman at heart, the first rule was to remain calm, not be swayed by the narrative—she must hold fast to her own values.

Her immediate task was to clear her name, then drive the foolish Xiao Huaijing out of the manor, preferably to fend for himself and not return to disgust her.

As for her nominal husband, Xiao Jingyun, he would soon die in battle and never return, so all she needed was to secure her position—everything else could be managed.

“Nanny Qin, help me dress and arrange my hair. If I’m not mistaken, someone from the palace should be coming soon.”

Nanny Qin sighed, “Princess knows everything, yet…”

Lin Yue raised her head, cutting her off, “No more words. I’m merely overwhelmed with longing for the Prince, which has made me confused.”

Nanny Qin and the maid Xiaomei’s eyes lit up instantly.

Longing for the Prince? Why hadn’t they thought of that excuse? The Empress Dowager’s favorite is the Prince—if she knows the Princess is lovesick, surely she’ll be more lenient.

Their hands moved quickly, and just as they finished dressing Lin Yue, Eunuch Deng from the palace arrived with a sedan chair to escort her.

Before leaving, Lin Yue took a piece of cake for sustenance. Dealing with someone as reckless as Xiao Huaijing, she had plenty of tricks up her sleeve.

Soon, the sedan chair carried her straight to the Shoukang Palace.

As she stepped down, she heard two palace maids gossiping nearby.

“Oh heavens, the Crown Prince was beaten with twenty strokes! Why?”

“No idea, but apparently he angered the Empress Dowager—he’s in so much pain he can’t even speak!”

Ah, the plot unfolds as expected!

In the novel, the Empress Dowager’s first test was to let Lin Yue overhear through palace maids that Xiao Huaijing was injured. Lin Yue, in a moment of concern, abandoned the Empress Dowager to find him, which made the Dowager furious. Lin Yue then lied, claiming she was worried about her husband’s heirs, and the Dowager begrudgingly forgave her.

But from that moment, the Dowager grew suspicious, setting the stage for Lin Yue’s eventual demise.

Now...

Lin Yue turned to Eunuch Deng and asked, “You allow such casual gossip about their master, Chief Deng?”

Deng Wei glanced at Lin Yue in surprise, then signaled two young eunuchs, who promptly escorted the two maids away. The maids looked back fearfully at Deng Wei, eyes pleading their innocence, not a trace of cunning to be found.

Lin Yue pressed on, and indeed found the Empress Dowager in Shoukang Palace, and for a moment was stunned.

The Empress Dowager was beautiful, with gentle eyebrows and a kindly face—she hardly looked fifty, more like thirty.

Only her dress, with its peony and lingzhi patterns, was a bit old-fashioned; otherwise, she would have been even more radiant.

“Hmm?” The Empress Dowager looked at Lin Yue quizzically, as if she heard something, but not spoken aloud—could it be Lin Yue’s inner thoughts?

Lin Yue knew the Dowager was about to demand an explanation, so she knelt and said, “Your daughter-in-law knows her guilt and begs Your Majesty’s forgiveness.”

The Empress Dowager slammed the table in anger.

With a loud thud, she sneered, “Guilt? Shameless creature, tell me, what guilt do you claim to know?”

Lin Yue quickly replied, “I admit I was excessive toward the Su family, but I can explain. I beg Your Majesty for a fair hearing.”

Lin Yue thought, Xiao Huaijing’s only skill is tattling—pathetic! If he had any guts, he’d face me directly!

The Dowager observed Lin Yue’s tightly shut mouth, startled. She really could hear Lin Yue’s thoughts.

But what did “pathetic” mean? It sounded like an insult.

When her son needed a joyous ceremony, Master Zhang had said Lin Yue’s fate was unusual—those close to her would not only grow strong in body, but their destinies would change.

She hadn’t believed it, but her son woke up the night they married. That’s why, though he disliked Lin Yue, she encouraged him to treat her well. She’d summoned Lin Yue several times, but Lin Yue always claimed illness, so the Dowager had lost interest.

The curtain in the inner chamber stirred. The Dowager glanced, then quickly looked away, her voice cold, “Let’s see how you explain. If you can’t, you won’t stay Princess for long.”

Lin Yue breathed a sigh of relief, just about to raise her head, when she suddenly noticed under the beaded curtain in the inner chamber—a pair of large black feet, size forty-two, peeking out.