【Beep beep beep—Reset reset reset—Zzzz…】
Under A Yuan’s persistent actions, the pitiful system finally crashed.
The massive system panel, once solid and substantial, now flickered faintly, as if on the verge of emitting white smoke to signal its ‘surrender.’
“Had enough?”
A Yuan rested her chin in her hand, tilting her head as she leaned against the window frame. Her gaze fell on the courtyard outside, where warm sunlight spilled across the yard and onto her jet-black hair. She squinted, looking drowsy.
Yet in her heart, she was enthusiastically threatening… the system.
【…Enough.】
Ever since arriving in this mission world, the system—once unruly and determined to dominate its host—had finally bowed its noble head after days of ‘adjustment,’ unable to endure any longer.
Heavens above—
What kind of system gets threatened like this by its host?!
“Had enough?”
The drowsy A Yuan instantly straightened up, rubbing her hands together with renewed vigor. “First, give me five thousand Points.”
【You have received: 5,000 Points. Current balance: Negative 12,600 Points…】
The system trembled in fear. Merciful heavens, it had already chosen a host, only to be hijacked by this woman halfway through! Hijacked or not, at least she could have taken the missions seriously. But no! She refused to accept the plot, ignored the background, and directly forced it to loan her Points for card drawing…
When they first bound, it was still a solid, fully functional ‘complete system.’ After these few days together, it had been worn down to only the card drawing function, with just enough energy left to light up one profession category.
A Yuan ignored the system’s petty resentment and also disregarded the balance.
With lightning-fast speed, she opened the translucent system panel, flipped to the card drawing page, found the only lit profession category—’Matron’—and directly clicked to draw. A flash of white light appeared.
Ten draws, all trash.
A Yuan clicked her tongue, thinking her posture might be off. She quickly straightened up, bowed toward the sky, and then clicked for another ten draws. Unfortunately, it was still all trash.
A Yuan’s brow twitched, a bit annoyed. She closed the system panel, leaned out of the small window, and shouted toward the courtyard, “Qiao Xiu.”
“Yes.”
A round-faced little maid peeked out from the side room, still holding a palm-leaf fan, with a smudge of black ash on the tip of her nose. Hearing A Yuan call her, she immediately dropped the fan and scurried out. “Miss, you called for me?”
“Quickly fetch a basin of water. I need to wash my hands.”
It must be because she hadn’t washed her hands that she couldn’t draw good cards—it definitely wasn’t because she was a non-chief.
“Yes.”
Qiao Xiu didn’t ask why she suddenly needed to wash her hands. Instead, she obediently went to the side room to fetch a basin and draw water, even sprinkling some flower petals into it for her lady. These past few days, her lady had been rather difficult to serve, seemingly deliberately making things hard with her demands for food, clothing, and daily necessities.
But it was understandable…
After all, the mistress was doing inhuman things, even thinking of using her lady to advance her own prospects!
Her lady and the eldest young master were the children of the original mistress. The current mistress was a stepmother, so naturally, she saw them as thorns in her side. Just two years ago, she had schemed against the eldest young master, sending him alone to Yangzhou to study. And now, she had set her sights on her lady!
Ever since rumors spread late last year about a grand civil selection for the palace, the Jiangnan region has been in turmoil. This is because over the past hundred years, from the reign of the Sacred Ancestor to the present, there have only been two civil selections for Candidate Maidens. The first was when the Sacred Ancestor himself, already past the age of fifty, wanted to take concubines after ascending the throne. Unable to touch the daughters of meritorious officials, he selected several dozen Candidate Maidens from commoner families to serve in the palace. After his passing, those maidens were sacrificed. The second was during the reign of the current emperor’s great-grandfather. Born with a weak constitution and few heirs, he selected dozens of sturdy, broad-hipped Candidate Maidens from commoner families, yet only three princes were born. After his passing, the childless consorts were still sacrificed.
In short, the final destination for these civil Candidate Maidens was the Imperial Tomb.
Thus, it is clear that the Civil Selection is a trap—one that doesn’t ensnare noble families but specifically targets the daughters of common folk.
A few days ago, the eunuchs overseeing the Civil Selection arrived in Gusu City. They first issued edicts to each county office, instructing local officials to recommend girls from respectable families with good looks and gentle dispositions to serve as Candidate Maidens. Families who cherished their daughters quietly paid bribes early on to remove their names from the list and hastily arranged marriages for them. Only our own lady, behind the master’s back, sought out the county magistrate’s wife and had her daughter’s name recorded in the Register.
It wasn’t until a few days ago, when the eunuchs arrived to deliver the Betrothal Gold, that the master learned of this.
These past few days, the master has been furious. Not only did he sell off the lady’s dowry attendants, but he also moved all the young masters and misses to the outer courtyard, confining the lady to her quarters to observe a vegetarian diet and worship Buddha. Household Management was handed over to Matron Fang.
But what use is any of it?
The young miss still has to go to the capital to participate in the selection!
Once the young miss leaves, the other young masters and misses will surely plead with the master on the lady’s behalf. Could the master truly confine the lady for a lifetime?
Qiao Xiu felt it was unfair to her young miss and had been serving her with even greater care these past few days. No matter how outrageous the young miss’s requests, Qiao Xiu would find a way to fulfill them!
After helping the young miss wash her hands and change clothes, she accompanied her to the small Buddhist shrine to offer incense.
This small shrine had always been there, housing a Buddha statue and the spirit tablet of the late lady. The young miss visited daily to offer incense and recite a passage from the Rebirth Sutra. For some reason, Qiao Xiu felt that today, the young miss was particularly devout.
And devout she was…
If the next ten-draw didn’t yield an SSR, A Yuan was going to tear the system apart!
[…]
Trembling with fear…
A Yuan lit a stick of incense for her late mother’s spirit tablet, carefully arranged the offerings with her own hands, and then knelt before the small Buddha statue to draw another ten.
Golden light shimmered!
—Ahhhhh, an SSR!
A Yuan completely ignored the nine pieces of junk from the other draws, her eyes fixed on the single golden card. Her face flushed with excitement, her heart pounded like a drum, and her entire being felt like a boiling teapot, ready to steam from the top of her head!
Perhaps too overwhelmed, her vision gradually blurred. As she collapsed, she heard Qiao Xiu’s sharp, anxious cry.
“Young miss—”
The system took one look—oh, she’s fainted!
Perfect opportunity!
Without waiting for A Yuan’s consent, it dumped the background story and the original host’s request into A Yuan’s mind, then went offline to pack up the remaining belongings and fled.
Having just drawn an SSR, A Yuan was now infinitely patient. Even after having the entire plot shoved into her head, she wasn’t angry. Instead, she calmly read through the long string of memories.
In her brief life of just over a decade, the original host had few noteworthy experiences—after all, she was merely an ordinary young lady confined to the inner chambers.
Yet… upon closer examination of the circumstances, she was indeed a pitiful soul.
Her father, Lin Huan, a former provincial scholar, now served as a teacher at the county school. Among the students who came and went under his tutelage, many had either remained in the capital or been appointed to official posts elsewhere. Had he wished to secure a promising husband for his daughter, it would have been a simple matter—he need only select a talented young scholar from among his students. Yet… it was as if he had forgotten this entirely. Not only did he never arrange any marriage prospects for the original host, he did not even inquire about the matter, instead delegating all authority to his second wife, Ma Shi.
Ma Shi was a hopeless romantic.
The original host’s birth mother, Wen Shi, had died under suspicious circumstances. Years ago, while accompanying Lin Huan to the capital for the imperial examinations, she discovered she was three months pregnant midway through the journey. At the time, they were aboard a canal boat on the Grand Canal, unable to turn back, so she pressed on to the capital with her growing belly.
Lin Huan had set out for the capital with two people, but returned with only one.
Wen Shi died in the capital. Lin Huan returned carrying the original host in swaddling clothes, fell gravely ill, and never attempted the imperial examinations again. Through the influence of a clan elder, he secured a teaching position at the county school and never left Gusu again.
Later, Lin Huan remarried Ma Shi, the daughter of a wealthy Yangzhou salt merchant. Though her family was affluent, they were of merchant status, and marrying a provincial scholar was considered a step up for her. Yet Lin Huan was a true gentleman, refined and dignified, fulfilling all of Ma Shi’s youthful fantasies. She only regretted being too young to have been his first wife and legal spouse.
Initially, she treated Wen Shi’s two children fairly well. But after giving birth to her own children, she began to resent the two who “disrupted” her perfect family.
First, she sent the original host’s elder brother, Lin Han, to study under a clan nephew. Now, she had registered the original host in the Register to become a Candidate Maiden.
Of course, she did not believe the original host could enter the palace as a consort—with her dull and timid disposition, she would likely pass only the initial physical examination and be eliminated in the subsequent rounds. Ma Shi simply wanted to send the original host to the palace to gain some prestige, then leverage the clan nephew’s connections to secure a favorable marriage alliance, which would later serve as a stepping stone for her own children.
Her plans were quite elaborate; she had even imagined how grateful the original host’s future husband would be to her once she married into a prominent family.
Thus, when she was placed under house arrest and stripped of her authority over household affairs, she felt no panic. She still had her own children, and once the eldest young lady went to the capital, she would regain control.
Unfortunately, she never imagined that the dull and obedient eldest young lady had been replaced from within.
As for the original host’s requests… there were not many, only two: to protect her brother and to uncover the truth behind her mother’s death.
Lin Huan remained tight-lipped about Wen Shi’s death, and inquiries would provoke his fury, suggesting that her death was indeed suspicious.
Lin Huan was not a man of flawless character, but he possessed genuine talent. That he abandoned the imperial examinations to become an ordinary teacher for the rest of his life indicated how grave the incident must have been.
Perhaps entering the palace would be a good thing—it might even make completing tasks easier.
A Yuan did not mind undertaking tasks. On the contrary, she was somewhat eager, as only by completing tasks could she earn Points and continue card drawing.
Though she could threaten the system to draw cards… A Yuan glanced at the faintly flickering system panel and curled her lip in disdain.
“Tsk.”
This useless system!
A Yuan finally withdrew her hand, fearing that with one careless move, she might “play” the system to death again. If that happened, it would be difficult to “hijack” another system in the future.
She wasn’t in a hurry to wake up now, so she simply took advantage of her unconscious state to study the background of the current world.
No wonder the original owner didn’t want to live anymore—this public selection of Candidate Maidens was clearly a trap, a power struggle between the current emperor and the Retired Emperor.
Looking back, the Retired Emperor ascended the throne at a young age and was deeply devoted to his first empress. After their marriage, they gave birth to a legitimate eldest son, who was named crown prince as soon as he could walk. Unfortunately, the first empress passed away prematurely, just when her relationship with the Retired Emperor was at its most passionate. From then on, the Retired Emperor cherished the crown prince, raising him with utmost care. Of course, this didn’t stop him from taking concubines and having more children. However, as the crown prince grew older, his conflicts with the Retired Emperor intensified, culminating a few years ago in an attempted coup.
In the end, the Retired Emperor outmaneuvered him. The crown prince was defeated, stripped of his title, and took his own life in front of the Taiji Hall. The Retired Emperor was also severely injured, leaving his face disfigured and both legs paralyzed.
How could the imperial court tolerate an emperor who damaged the dignity of the royal family in such a way?
Yet the Retired Emperor was still in the prime of his life and unwilling to abdicate. After months of struggle, he finally relinquished the throne to the sixth prince, who was only ten years old at the time—the current emperor.
Now, several years later, the emperor had grown up and intended to marry and take full control of the government. How could the Retired Emperor possibly relinquish his power?
The result of the father-son power struggle was that the emperor would temporarily select consorts from the common people to produce heirs. As for the positions of empress and noble consorts, the Retired Emperor would slowly evaluate candidates from among the nobility and officials, only proceeding with a grand wedding once he found someone satisfactory.
For now, the relationship between father and son remained relatively calm. But once this batch of Candidate Maidens entered the palace and gave birth to the emperor’s first son, turmoil would surely erupt again.
In other words, after entering the palace, she would not only face the emperor’s displeasure but also have to guard against persecution from the Retired Emperor. After all, the Retired Emperor had no desire for children to be born in the harem—especially since, after his abdication, he and Consort Zhen Shi had two more sons, the younger of whom was already four years old.
Perhaps the Retired Emperor even harbored the idea of deposing the current emperor and installing his youngest son on the throne, allowing him to continue wielding power.
“This is truly a hellish start…” A Yuan gasped in shock.
She felt the information provided by the system was still too simplistic.
A Yuan began knocking on the system’s head, but the system, with its long legs, ran too fast, leaving only an automated reply: [Away from keyboard…]
A Yuan: “…”
A Yuan laughed in anger!
She thoroughly tormented the system, watching as the already translucent screen flickered and glitched a few times. Only then did she feel somewhat satisfied and withdrew her consciousness, slowly opening her eyes from her unconscious state.
As she did, she saw a handsome young man sitting by her bedside, crying so hard that tears and snot covered his face.
“Sister, you’re finally awake.” Lin Han’s eyes were swollen from crying. He gently held A Yuan’s sleeve, his voice choked with emotion. “Don’t be afraid. I’ve already pleaded with our cousin and his wife. If we can intercept the name list before it reaches the capital, you won’t have to enter the palace.”
Cousin and his wife?
Having fully merged with the original owner’s memories, A Yuan now noticed the familiar names of this couple.
Lin Ruhai, Jia Min.
A Yuan’s eyes widened in surprise. Good heavens, she had transmigrated into a book!