Chapter 1: Has She Just Encountered... Time Travel?

Cold... so cold...

Her whole body felt as if it had just been pulled from a river, chilled to the bone. She had been shot in the heart by one of Wen Junyi’s subordinates. She should have died—so why did she feel as though she were still alive, and why did a relentless, icy coldness surge through her entire being?

“Your Highness, are you feeling better? Xiangcao, bring another quilt.” Amidst the noisy commotion around her, only the concerned voice of a middle-aged man at her side came through clearly. Something was draped over her, and warmth began to seep into her.

“Achoo!” Yun Qian’ge sneezed heavily and forced her eyes open. The moment she did, a man flung himself onto her, weeping with joy. “Your Highness, you’re finally awake! This old servant thought he’d never see you again.”

Xiangcao hurried forward with a cup of hot tea. “Yes, Your Highness, if you hadn’t woken up, my father would have cried for three days and nights.”

The woman before her was of unremarkable appearance, with an ordinary face. Her hair was tied back with a red ribbon, she wore a short jacket and long trousers, black boots on her feet, and a black sword at her waist—giving her a valiant, spirited look.

She glanced at the man who was sobbing as if he might soon cry himself breathless; he bore some resemblance to the woman, though he was far older. His hair was simply gathered up with a wooden comb, and his face—now streaked with tears—had lost much of its makeup, rouge and powder dropping off in little puffs.

Her surroundings, too—a carved grand bed, antique paintings and calligraphy—were unfamiliar. Steadying herself, Yun Qian’ge seized the middle-aged man clinging to her and looked straight into his eyes. “Look at me. Tell me—who are you? Who am I? Where is this?” As a national agent from the 21st century, hypnosis was a routine skill for her.

“I am Zheng An, Your Highness’s personal servant. You are the Princess of the Tianyuan Dynasty. This is the Princess’s residence in Tianyuan.” Zheng An fell completely under Yun Qian’ge’s hypnotic spell and answered unconsciously.

Why was the princess asking such strange questions? Xiangcao looked at her father, whose expression was vacant, and asked, “Your Highness, is my father all right?”

“He’s fine. Everyone except Zheng An, leave at once. What happened today must remain a secret—no one is to utter a single word about it. Is that clear?” Since she was a princess, surely she had some authority? Yun Qian’ge wrapped the quilt tighter around herself and arched an eyebrow as she questioned them.

No sooner had she spoken than the people in the hall dropped to their knees one after another, as swiftly as autumn leaves swept by the wind.

Yun Qian’ge twitched her lips. So she did have authority—but was it respect, or simply fear? Did they see her as a tiger? At that moment, Yun Qian’ge did not realize that in the eyes of those around her, she was not just a tiger, but their living nightmare.

Xiangcao led the servants out, leaving only Zheng An, who had yet to fully recover his senses. After extracting everything she needed to know, Yun Qian’ge snapped her fingers, and the now-awake Zheng An took his leave.

She collapsed onto the bed, too drained to move, and began to process all she had just learned from her nursemaid. Staring up at the phoenix motif carved into the canopy, she could only laugh and cry at her fate. She hadn’t died—she had transmigrated.

The era she found herself in was not one recorded in any history book. The Tianyuan Dynasty was a place where men’s status was low, women worked outside the home, and women of rank and position could take multiple husbands and keep several attendants—a nation ruled by women.