Chapter 1: Cold Palace
The first year of Zhaoping.
Imperial Palace of the Great Xia Dynasty.
The glazed roof tiles, once noble and majestic, had lost their usual luster under the dim winter sky. A biting northern wind rustled through the holly branches, producing a series of mournful, ominous cries that made one’s heart clench.
The sky was overcast, as if preparing for a blizzard. The clouds hung low, heavy with gloom. Tang Wan sat on the doorstep, expressionless, head tilted back.
Her sky was about to collapse too.
From the carefree daughter of a Grand Secretary to the imperial noble consort revered above all others, her rise had been far too smooth. She had forgotten the old saying: “The tallest tree in the forest is the first to be cut.” Or perhaps: “The bird that sticks its head out gets shot.”
Three years ago, she was still a college student, newly enrolled. She died in an accident, and when she awoke, she found herself transported into a dynasty she had only read about in history books—the Great Xia. The body’s original owner shared her name, Tang Wan: the pampered, noble daughter of a Grand Secretary. When Tang Wan took over the body, she also inherited a life of privilege and indulgence.
This life dulled her vigilance. That’s why Prince An—Rong Duo, handsome and gentle—easily won her heart. Though thirty-three and already with concubines and children, he vowed devotion only to her.
Naive and untouched by love, Tang Wan fell for him completely. Smitten, she pleaded with her father and brother to support Rong Duo. When the former emperor passed, Rong Duo, ambitious and well-prepared, ascended the throne.
But she never received the decree naming her empress—only the title of Imperial Noble Consort. Rong Duo, now emperor, softly assured her that the late princess consort’s family had done much for him, and it wouldn’t be right to name her empress immediately. Tang Wan believed him. She thought his love was enough.
And to be fair, Rong Duo did indulge her. She was free to deal with the old servants of Prince An’s household however she pleased. He didn’t even frown.
But such a woman was bound to become everyone’s enemy.
Her father and brother grew bolder, demanding more and more. When they finally crossed Rong Duo’s bottom line, a curse doll was discovered in her palace—carved with Rong Duo’s birth date and curse words.
At that time, she still foolishly believed he would protect her. Instead, she was stripped of her title and cast out. When she rushed to confront him, his cold, indifferent gaze shattered her last illusion.
Rong Duo swiftly purged the court. Her family was charged with treason—property confiscated, relatives exiled or executed. The once-glorious Grand Secretary’s household crumbled overnight.
Tang Wan was imprisoned in the “Reflection Pavilion,” nicknamed the Cold Palace. Two months there sobered her. History had plenty of examples of ministers who became threats to their kings. How had she forgotten? How had she fallen so deeply into that beautiful dream?
She had been so, so wrong.
The once-spoiled girl now became fierce. No matter how much she was tormented in the Cold Palace, she never bowed. Her refusal to confess made Rong Duo’s remaining patience wear thinner and thinner. Tang Wan knew: the day he would take her life was drawing near.
“Creak.”
The gate, which only opened at mealtime, suddenly swung open. A sharp, sycophantic voice followed:
“Consort Xian, please—”
Before the words finished, a woman in crimson court dress appeared at the entrance. Her face was fair and serene, her features soft and gentle, but a subtle resilience showed through. She frowned slightly at Tang Wan, who still sat on the threshold, and a trace of pity flickered in her eyes.
Tang Wan didn’t even lift an eyelid, but her heart sank.
Even when she was favored, Rong Duo always praised Consort Xian for her obedience and wisdom. Now she came—
“Wan-meimei, why do this to yourself?” Consort Xian said gently, stepping closer, her tone soft and concerned. “If you just admit the curse incident, with His Majesty’s love for you, he may still forgive you.”
“If you keep acting out like this, you’re only eroding what pity he has left.”
Stripped of her title, now a criminal awaiting punishment, Tang Wan found it absurd that Consort Xian could still speak to her so warmly—like she was truly concerned.
How noble of her!
Tang Wan didn’t even twitch. She replied coldly,
“Spare me your concern.”
“You ungrateful wretch!” barked the palace maid Hong Ying beside Consort Xian, eyebrows raised haughtily. She had suffered many slights from Tang Wan in the past—this was her moment of revenge.
“And who are you to speak to me?” Tang Wan finally raised her eyes, sharp as blades. Not even her disgrace could dull her pride.
Hong Ying instinctively shrank back. But she quickly remembered: Tang Wan was no longer the high and mighty noble consort. She bristled, ready to retort—until her mistress raised a calming hand.
Consort Xian even apologized softly.
“Wan-meimei, I failed to teach her properly. Please don’t take it to heart.”
“Oh, is that so?” Tang Wan curled her lip, smileless. “Take your barking dog and leave. I won’t see you out.”
She didn’t want to spend another second with her. That delicate, kind face made her want to tear it apart. If she were truly kind, would she wait until her servant insulted her before stepping in?
Looking back, she realized: many of Prince An’s old servants had only seemed repulsive because of Consort Xian’s subtle influence. Though she’d never liked the woman, she had still been used.
She accepted her downfall—but as long as she lived, she would never bow to Consort Xian.
“Your Ladyship, this vile woman dares disrespect you!” Hong Ying shrieked. “Why be polite with her—”
Consort Xian calmly waved her off.
In the now-quiet courtyard, only Tang Wan and Consort Xian remained.
“Wan-meimei was raised in comfort and never knew hardship,” Consort Xian said softly. “But you are clever. I trust you understand His Majesty’s wishes.”
Just two vague sentences made Tang Wan’s heart seize.
She lowered her eyes, covering her emotions, and slowly smiled.
“Speak plainly. There’s no one else here. No need to play the virtuous act.”
Consort Xian said nothing. Her serene expression stung Tang Wan’s eyes. A woman like this—who climbed from servant to imperial consort—kind and gentle? What a joke.
Tang Wan turned to leave, fed up—but Consort Xian stopped her, slipping a small white porcelain bottle into her hand.
Its contents were obvious.
Tang Wan wasn’t experienced enough. Her eyes flickered, a mix of fear and fury flashing through them. But Consort Xian remained as composed as ever.
“This His Majesty’s will?” Tang Wan asked, gripping the bottle. She raised it high, intending to smash it—only to be stopped.
“Think it through, Wan-meimei,” Consort Xian said sincerely. “At least preserve your dignity.”
Tang Wan glared at her, venom in her eyes. But Consort Xian only showed gentle pity. There was no weakness to be found in her face.
Tang Wan’s heart sank like a stone into a bottomless abyss.
Consort Xian had always been perceptive and cautious. She wouldn’t have brought poison without Rong Duo’s explicit order.
Rong Duo. Rong Duo!
You dare humiliate me like this?!
“The decree will arrive shortly,” Consort Xian said, cutting off any last hope.
Tang Wan shoved her hand away, but clutched the small bottle tightly. Head held high, she walked back inside and slammed the door behind her. Outside, Consort Xian’s face didn’t change—even alone, she showed no displeasure.
Inside, the last coal in the brazier had gone cold. Even when there had been coal, it was the lowest quality—its thick smoke made her eyes water.
Silence like death.
Tang Wan collapsed against the worn bedpost. The icy floor beneath her offered no comfort, but she no longer felt anything.
“Imperial Decree arriving—!”
The sharp voice of a young eunuch rang from afar. Tang Wan recognized him—the favored apprentice of the eunuch steward of Qingliang Hall.
Those three words were like a death sentence. Yet, all panic drained from Tang Wan’s face. A calm, even relieved smile formed on her lips.
She swallowed the poison without hesitation and closed her eyes.
Once, she had waited for the decree that would make her empress. Now, she would not kneel to receive one that sentenced her to death.
Her pride would not allow it.
If she must die, then let it be her choice. Perhaps by dying again, she could return to her original world.
Tang Wan slowly closed her eyes. A single cold tear slid down her cheek.
But she was not willing to die!
If only…
If only she had one more chance…
“Something’s happened!”
The Cold Palace erupted in chaos. The decree went unread—its bearer fled in haste to report back. Within moments, the entire Reflection Pavilion was in turmoil.
Farther away, Consort Xian paused. For the first time, a crack appeared in her ever-gentle expression.
A flash of madness and cruelty lit her eyes.
Then she smiled—genuinely, joyfully, like never before.
Imperial Palace of the Great Xia Dynasty.
The glazed roof tiles, once noble and majestic, had lost their usual luster under the dim winter sky. A biting northern wind rustled through the holly branches, producing a series of mournful, ominous cries that made one’s heart clench.
The sky was overcast, as if preparing for a blizzard. The clouds hung low, heavy with gloom. Tang Wan sat on the doorstep, expressionless, head tilted back.
Her sky was about to collapse too.
From the carefree daughter of a Grand Secretary to the imperial noble consort revered above all others, her rise had been far too smooth. She had forgotten the old saying: “The tallest tree in the forest is the first to be cut.” Or perhaps: “The bird that sticks its head out gets shot.”
Three years ago, she was still a college student, newly enrolled. She died in an accident, and when she awoke, she found herself transported into a dynasty she had only read about in history books—the Great Xia. The body’s original owner shared her name, Tang Wan: the pampered, noble daughter of a Grand Secretary. When Tang Wan took over the body, she also inherited a life of privilege and indulgence.
This life dulled her vigilance. That’s why Prince An—Rong Duo, handsome and gentle—easily won her heart. Though thirty-three and already with concubines and children, he vowed devotion only to her.
Naive and untouched by love, Tang Wan fell for him completely. Smitten, she pleaded with her father and brother to support Rong Duo. When the former emperor passed, Rong Duo, ambitious and well-prepared, ascended the throne.
But she never received the decree naming her empress—only the title of Imperial Noble Consort. Rong Duo, now emperor, softly assured her that the late princess consort’s family had done much for him, and it wouldn’t be right to name her empress immediately. Tang Wan believed him. She thought his love was enough.
And to be fair, Rong Duo did indulge her. She was free to deal with the old servants of Prince An’s household however she pleased. He didn’t even frown.
But such a woman was bound to become everyone’s enemy.
Her father and brother grew bolder, demanding more and more. When they finally crossed Rong Duo’s bottom line, a curse doll was discovered in her palace—carved with Rong Duo’s birth date and curse words.
At that time, she still foolishly believed he would protect her. Instead, she was stripped of her title and cast out. When she rushed to confront him, his cold, indifferent gaze shattered her last illusion.
Rong Duo swiftly purged the court. Her family was charged with treason—property confiscated, relatives exiled or executed. The once-glorious Grand Secretary’s household crumbled overnight.
Tang Wan was imprisoned in the “Reflection Pavilion,” nicknamed the Cold Palace. Two months there sobered her. History had plenty of examples of ministers who became threats to their kings. How had she forgotten? How had she fallen so deeply into that beautiful dream?
She had been so, so wrong.
The once-spoiled girl now became fierce. No matter how much she was tormented in the Cold Palace, she never bowed. Her refusal to confess made Rong Duo’s remaining patience wear thinner and thinner. Tang Wan knew: the day he would take her life was drawing near.
“Creak.”
The gate, which only opened at mealtime, suddenly swung open. A sharp, sycophantic voice followed:
“Consort Xian, please—”
Before the words finished, a woman in crimson court dress appeared at the entrance. Her face was fair and serene, her features soft and gentle, but a subtle resilience showed through. She frowned slightly at Tang Wan, who still sat on the threshold, and a trace of pity flickered in her eyes.
Tang Wan didn’t even lift an eyelid, but her heart sank.
Even when she was favored, Rong Duo always praised Consort Xian for her obedience and wisdom. Now she came—
“Wan-meimei, why do this to yourself?” Consort Xian said gently, stepping closer, her tone soft and concerned. “If you just admit the curse incident, with His Majesty’s love for you, he may still forgive you.”
“If you keep acting out like this, you’re only eroding what pity he has left.”
Stripped of her title, now a criminal awaiting punishment, Tang Wan found it absurd that Consort Xian could still speak to her so warmly—like she was truly concerned.
How noble of her!
Tang Wan didn’t even twitch. She replied coldly,
“Spare me your concern.”
“You ungrateful wretch!” barked the palace maid Hong Ying beside Consort Xian, eyebrows raised haughtily. She had suffered many slights from Tang Wan in the past—this was her moment of revenge.
“And who are you to speak to me?” Tang Wan finally raised her eyes, sharp as blades. Not even her disgrace could dull her pride.
Hong Ying instinctively shrank back. But she quickly remembered: Tang Wan was no longer the high and mighty noble consort. She bristled, ready to retort—until her mistress raised a calming hand.
Consort Xian even apologized softly.
“Wan-meimei, I failed to teach her properly. Please don’t take it to heart.”
“Oh, is that so?” Tang Wan curled her lip, smileless. “Take your barking dog and leave. I won’t see you out.”
She didn’t want to spend another second with her. That delicate, kind face made her want to tear it apart. If she were truly kind, would she wait until her servant insulted her before stepping in?
Looking back, she realized: many of Prince An’s old servants had only seemed repulsive because of Consort Xian’s subtle influence. Though she’d never liked the woman, she had still been used.
She accepted her downfall—but as long as she lived, she would never bow to Consort Xian.
“Your Ladyship, this vile woman dares disrespect you!” Hong Ying shrieked. “Why be polite with her—”
Consort Xian calmly waved her off.
In the now-quiet courtyard, only Tang Wan and Consort Xian remained.
“Wan-meimei was raised in comfort and never knew hardship,” Consort Xian said softly. “But you are clever. I trust you understand His Majesty’s wishes.”
Just two vague sentences made Tang Wan’s heart seize.
She lowered her eyes, covering her emotions, and slowly smiled.
“Speak plainly. There’s no one else here. No need to play the virtuous act.”
Consort Xian said nothing. Her serene expression stung Tang Wan’s eyes. A woman like this—who climbed from servant to imperial consort—kind and gentle? What a joke.
Tang Wan turned to leave, fed up—but Consort Xian stopped her, slipping a small white porcelain bottle into her hand.
Its contents were obvious.
Tang Wan wasn’t experienced enough. Her eyes flickered, a mix of fear and fury flashing through them. But Consort Xian remained as composed as ever.
“This His Majesty’s will?” Tang Wan asked, gripping the bottle. She raised it high, intending to smash it—only to be stopped.
“Think it through, Wan-meimei,” Consort Xian said sincerely. “At least preserve your dignity.”
Tang Wan glared at her, venom in her eyes. But Consort Xian only showed gentle pity. There was no weakness to be found in her face.
Tang Wan’s heart sank like a stone into a bottomless abyss.
Consort Xian had always been perceptive and cautious. She wouldn’t have brought poison without Rong Duo’s explicit order.
Rong Duo. Rong Duo!
You dare humiliate me like this?!
“The decree will arrive shortly,” Consort Xian said, cutting off any last hope.
Tang Wan shoved her hand away, but clutched the small bottle tightly. Head held high, she walked back inside and slammed the door behind her. Outside, Consort Xian’s face didn’t change—even alone, she showed no displeasure.
Inside, the last coal in the brazier had gone cold. Even when there had been coal, it was the lowest quality—its thick smoke made her eyes water.
Silence like death.
Tang Wan collapsed against the worn bedpost. The icy floor beneath her offered no comfort, but she no longer felt anything.
“Imperial Decree arriving—!”
The sharp voice of a young eunuch rang from afar. Tang Wan recognized him—the favored apprentice of the eunuch steward of Qingliang Hall.
Those three words were like a death sentence. Yet, all panic drained from Tang Wan’s face. A calm, even relieved smile formed on her lips.
She swallowed the poison without hesitation and closed her eyes.
Once, she had waited for the decree that would make her empress. Now, she would not kneel to receive one that sentenced her to death.
Her pride would not allow it.
If she must die, then let it be her choice. Perhaps by dying again, she could return to her original world.
Tang Wan slowly closed her eyes. A single cold tear slid down her cheek.
But she was not willing to die!
If only…
If only she had one more chance…
“Something’s happened!”
The Cold Palace erupted in chaos. The decree went unread—its bearer fled in haste to report back. Within moments, the entire Reflection Pavilion was in turmoil.
Farther away, Consort Xian paused. For the first time, a crack appeared in her ever-gentle expression.
A flash of madness and cruelty lit her eyes.
Then she smiled—genuinely, joyfully, like never before.
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