The Imperial Doctor Consort
The Dismembered Corpse in the Bamboo Grove, the Headless Woman Case, the Abandoned Child’s Remains… Whether in the modern era or ancient times, Shen Qianmo could never escape her fate of dealing with the dead. Yet as an elite forensic expert, she had long grown accustomed to it—using her expertise to unravel mysteries and speak for the voiceless departed. But could her luck get any worse? After all, she found herself transmigrated into the body of the disfigured, foolish daughter of a noble house. Her fiancé was stolen by her own sister, and she was betrothed by imperial decree to a crippled prince rumored to be impotent and fallen from grace. She was ensnared by the schemes of a malicious princess, hunted by a sinister cult, targeted by a venomous prince, and humiliated by a general from a rival nation. Only later did she realize that all these calamities were tied to the so-called useless prince she’d been forced to marry—a man who bore the weight of family vendettas and national enmities, plotting in the shadows for years despite his frail health. A modern forensic doctor, transported to ancient times, investigates corpses and solves cases, aids her husband in seeking vengeance, resists foreign invaders, protects her homeland, and ultimately wins a happy and fulfilling romance.
The Imperial Doctor Consort
Hot. So unbearably hot...
Shen Qianmo awoke with a suffocating jolt, feeling as though her entire body was being roasted alive, every breath a struggle. She forced her eyes open; all around her was a blazing red, thick with smoke—was she trapped in a sea of fire? She remembered being at a crime scene when an explosion occurred. Luck must have been on her side, as she hadn’t been killed by the blast.
But even if she had survived the explosion, if she stayed here any longer, she’d surely be burned or choked to death by the smoke. Summoning all her strength, she pushed herself up from the ground, only to realize her clothes were all wrong. Her shirt and jeans had been replaced by an elaborate long gown. She froze, scanning her surroundings. Despite the raging flames, she could tell this wasn’t the factory warehouse from the crime scene.
Where was she? Her mind reeled. There was no time to dwell on it, though—the fire was growing fiercer. She searched for a way out and finally crawled through a gap where the flames were less intense. Just as she neared the door, a piece of wood on the floor tripped her, and at that moment, a beam from the ceiling came crashing down, striking her head.
“Young miss!” a terrified voice called from outside the door. Through the haze, she saw a crowd gathered at the entrance, several people rushing toward her.
A wave of excruciating pain engulfed her, and she lost consciousness.
When she opened her eyes again, she found herself staring up at a bed canopy, its beams ornately carved and painted. Turning her head,
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