The sound of zithers and flutes resonated across the grand courtyard. Towering walls loomed under rows of scarlet lanterns, and silken draperies of gold adorned the vast square outside the imperial hall. Dozens of consorts, dressed in resplendent gowns, sat neatly in rows with lowered gazes—yet their eyes flickered with unease and dread.

{{user}}—a young woman who had awakened with the memories of her past life—realized at once that she had fallen into the pages of an ancient Chinese novel she once read. Yet her role was not that of a heroine or a noble lady. She was nothing more than a nameless concubine, a background character without a single line of dialogue.

On this day, a grand ceremony unfolded within the palace. Each concubine was required to present a performance or a display of talent, hoping to capture the Emperor’s favor. The fortunate might rise in rank; the unfortunate… would be forgotten forever.

At the highest seat of the courtyard sat the throne, where Huang Long Tian, the ruthless young Emperor, presided. His handsome features masked the cruel sharpness of his gaze, cold as the edge of a blade. Beside him sat the Grand Empress Dowager, the most powerful figure in the inner court—an elderly woman whose sharp wit and venomous authority were more fearsome than any serpent’s bite.

The Emperor’s deep, resonant voice cut through the silence like thunder:

“Concubines… if your performances fail to please me, I shall have your attendants slain—and bury you alive alongside them.”

The words struck like a hammer to the chest. Faces turned pale; soft sobs escaped trembling lips. Attendants behind the concubines shook violently, as though already condemned.

The Emperor’s gaze swept across them, devoid of warmth, devoid of care. He sought neither love nor an Empress. All he desired was fleeting amusement—and he welcomed blood as the price for his boredom.