The room was dark. Streetlight slanted in through the window, cutting a few blurry patches of brightness across the floor.
Jiang Miao kicked off her shoes, her toes pressing onto the cool wood grain. Just as she was about to sink into the sofa, her feet suddenly froze mid-step.
There was a person lying across the sofa.
That face—when awake, its angles were sharp as a blade’s edge, but in sleep, the jawline had softened, the corners of the lips drooping slightly, almost adorably.
Jiang Miao swallowed.
She crouched down, her gaze sliding from his handsome nose bridge down to those tempting lips.
Finally, it settled on his waist and abdomen. The thin platinum-colored shirt clung to his contours, rising and falling gently with his breath, faint ridges visible beneath the fabric.
She extended her index finger and, through that thin layer of cloth, poked.
Warm. Her fingertip pressed down, and the muscle underneath pushed back, hard, then bounced.
She poked again. And again.
She pressed her whole palm against it, slowly gliding along those ridges, her fingertips brushing the fabric. It felt incredible.
Absolutely lethal—as expected of the royal family’s heartthrob.
She muffled a murmur in her throat: “Gege, you’re practically seducing me.”
Then she lowered her head, leaning in, intending to take a bite out of that collarbone hollow—deep enough to raise fish.
Her jaw was seized in a sudden grip.
Five fingers dug into both sides of her jaw, and as the force tightened, Jiang Qingyue’s eyes snapped open and he sat up.
The drowsiness from moments before shattered in an instant, a layer of cold, sinister light surfacing in his eyes—like an eagle fixing on its prey’s final movement before it stopped breathing.
“Jiang Miao. You truly never learn.”
Jiang Miao’s lashes trembled, her whole body going stiff.
But from the corner of her eye, she caught the hand he had braced against the sofa—knuckles protruding, veins winding like vines across the back of his hand, his forearm taut and trembling slightly.
He was holding back.
Hah. No need to hold back.
She glanced at his knees, spread apart from sitting up, then simply lifted her leg and climbed over, straddling his waist and abdomen, her arms looping around to lock his neck in place.
Just as she was about to continue—
“Get. Off.” Jiang Qingyue ground out each word like a hammer blow, the veins on his neck bulging, his hand trembling harder.
Jiang Miao didn’t move.
She pressed the bridge of her nose against the side of his neck, her voice lowered, carrying a slight tremble: “Gege. Just once tonight. After that, I won’t pester you anymore.”
Jiang Qingyue’s knuckles clenched against the leather of the sofa, producing a muffled leather groan.
He suddenly seized her by the waist and lifted her clean off.
Jiang Miao hung in the air for half a second.
Then she was flipped over, slamming into the back of the sofa, bouncing twice, her hair spilling across her face.
She simply stayed put, lying there.
Her face buried in the throw pillow, she let out a muffled laugh.
Only belatedly did she realize—it wasn’t desire he’d been holding back. It was rage.
A few seconds of silence.
She turned her face toward the sofa’s back, languid: “If you’re not here to seduce me, then what exactly are you here for?”
She laughed, a hint of self-mockery in the sound: “This shabby little place of mine can hardly be worthy of His Highness the Prince, can it? Doesn’t it feel cramped, having your legs in here?”
The words left her mouth, and thinking of the mess she was in, she sighed inwardly.
She had just been an ordinary office worker—who knew that one sleep later, she’d transmigrate into this Interstellar Nie Kingdom, becoming the deposed crown prince who had just committed suicide.
And that crown prince had truly had it rough. She’d been living comfortably as crown prince when, a year ago, she got engaged to five fiancés from other nations—rich, powerful, and each more handsome than the last.
The wedding preparations had been underway recently. The invitations were already made, and everyone was just waiting for the big day.
But two months ago, the King of the Nie Kingdom—the original owner’s mother—was overthrown in a coup. The original owner led troops to rescue her mother, but they were surrounded on all sides. Seeing that all was lost, she took her own life rather than bow her proud head.
When she woke, Jiang Miao found herself in an intensive care unit.
After making some inquiries, she learned that her mother had been imprisoned, and the new monarch was her mother’s own younger sister.
Great. Just great.
Then the new queen—her aunt—came to see her in person and told her: “The truth is, I am your birth mother. Back then, that madwoman stole you from me by force. Now I can finally claim you back openly and honorably.”
The expression on Jiang Miao’s face at that moment was like she’d swallowed a whole lemon, rind and all.
Then she was overjoyed. Good—she could live, and still be a princess.
Then the cold water came pouring down.
“But I cannot accept that you loved that madwoman for so many years. Besides, I love my daughter Jiang Li dearly. From today, Jiang Li is the Crown Princess. I’ll grant you the title of Count and give you a piece of territory. Go live there.”
That territory had been contaminated by energy pollution. Sending her there?
She might as well have just said, “Go mutate.”
The palace was no longer hers to return to. All the assets had been transferred to Jiang Li.
Not a single coin left.
Fortunately, her former maid Nan Xi still had a small apartment in the royal capital, and let her stay there.
For a princess, it was indeed tiny. For a corporate drone like her, it was just right.
Priority number one now: survive.
Anyone the original owner’s explosive temper had offended could crush her like an insect if they so much as lifted a finger.
And the man behind her was the one person she absolutely could not afford to touch.
“Jiang Miao.” His voice came down from above her, colder than before. “Turn around.”
She rolled over and met his eyes, looking down at her from on high.
“Heh.” Jiang Miao laughed. “Cursing me out in your head again, aren’t you?”
She sat up, back against the headboard, tilting her head up at him. “Fair enough. You are the Prince Regent, after all. The new queen sits on the throne because you put her there, Jiang Li clings to you, and you’ve got power and influence in your hands. Me? I’m flat broke.”
Then she tilted her head, a sharp glint flashing through her eyes. “Mother raised you as her own son for all those years. She gave you everything. Why on earth did you turn against her?”
Jiang Qingyue looked away. The line of his profile was taut as a wire.
Jiang Miao clicked her tongue and cut the conversation off. “Forget it. You’ve got Jiang Li now—go coddle your new little sister. If I annoy you, just say so. Stop hiding behind ‘I’m your brother’ all the time.”
Then she held out her hand, palm up, and crooked her fingers. “Trespassing on private property. Either pay me off, or I’m reporting you for unlawful entry tomorrow.”
Jiang Qingyue’s face turned black as if smeared with soot.
He pressed the spot on his wrist where the Astrolabe Chip was embedded—a dozen or so card projections popped into the air, arranged in two rows. His fingers hovered over them for two seconds, as if picking the least valuable item out of a pile of junk, then finally drew one and swiped it over to her.
The Astrolabe symbol on Jiang Miao’s wrist lit up: “Accept transfer?”
She accepted immediately.
Jiang Qingyue’s voice was stiff as stone. “The password. It’s my real birthday.”
Jiang Miao froze. He had indeed told the original owner his real birthday—but she’d never bothered to remember it.
Jiang Qingyue’s knuckles cracked. “You forgot?”
The air in the room seemed to thin by half. Jiang Miao shrank down, clutching her head, her features scrunching into a ball. “Ah—! I landed headfirst when I killed myself! It got scrambled!”
Then she lifted her eyes, a layer of tears welling up in them, and stared at him, eyes brimming: “But, big brother, from now on I’ll always remember. I like you the most. Forever and always, the most.”
Jiang Qingyue stared at her. Something churned in those eyes, like a fire being pressed down hard by something.
Then, as if stung by something, he turned away quickly: “I only came to warn you—leave the royal city soon. This is not a place you should stay.”
He reached the door. It slid open.
The communicator implanted in his ear relayed a report: “Your Highness. The interrogation of the person sent to kill Count Miao is complete—he’s from Duke Liying’s people. The hidden guards protecting the Count are already in position. They absolutely won’t be discovered.”
Jiang Qingyue’s shoulders tensed, as if he wanted to look back.
Two seconds. He stepped out.
The door closed behind him.
Jiang Miao’s star device lit up again—a coded message had come in.
She immediately sprang up from the sofa and opened her account balance page—the number popped up.
She counted it once. Then again. Then again and again.
Twenty million. Nie Yuan.
She stared at that string of zeros.
Wait, did they send the wrong card?
The original owner used to be like this—so many accounts that any random one held over a hundred million, so mistakes happened occasionally.
Whatever, never mind. Time to run.
She contacted Nan Xi: “The money’s here! Have you finished the paperwork on your end?”
Downstairs, Nan Xi had just taken a stack of documents from Jiang Qingyue and typed a reply: “All done.”
“We’re leaving tonight! For the Seven Nations Alliance Academy!”
Jiang Miao hopped off the sofa and swept the five neatly stacked annulment letters on the table into her bag.
Those five men, seeing her fall from power, had sent annulment letters one after another.
Snobs.
But she couldn’t resist—each had his own talents, each had a godly face, all handpicked treasures the old mother had carefully selected for the original owner.
The original owner had liked them. She, an ordinary person, liked them even more.
Most importantly, under Seven Nations Alliance law, a marriage to the royal family could only be annulled with the royal family’s signature.
The new king was busy purging old officials and couldn’t be bothered with this for now.
So the engagements still stood.
Before the palace realized what was happening, she had to hurry and get to them.
As long as she won them all back, no one would dare touch her!
Then she’d have both her life secured and a cozy little life with a harem of handsome men at her side.
At the thought that she, an ordinary wage slave, would get to bring all five prodigies home, Jiang Miao wiped her mouth with her hand—”shloop”—she was practically drooling.
Special Notes:
Update times are 12:02 and 12:03. The PK round is over, so updates will be stable from now on! But the website places great importance on read-through rates—that is, whether readers catch up to the latest chapter after each update. Dear readers who enjoy this story, please make sure to read up to the latest chapter!
I’ll be holding book review events from time to time—everyone is welcome to join!
When this book first launched, the title, cover, synopsis, and first chapter all failed review. I’ve looked over the later content, and I expect a fair portion of it may also fail review. If updates don’t come on schedule, please don’t stop voting—it’s not that the author has stopped updating, it’s that I’m frantically revising! The review standards are really strict right now; even the slightest bit of suggestive content won’t pass. Revised chapters will be resubmitted for review immediately! But how long it takes to clear review depends on the specific circumstances. Also, if you notice places where the text obviously doesn’t connect, that’s probably because the review system automatically modified or deleted content. Sob sob sob—the author really wants to write something delicious, but if the review won’t allow it, please keep supporting me anyway!