Chapter 1 — In my previous life, I fought for three generations of queens, but in this life I just want to eat my fill

In my previous life, I overthrew three generations of queens and personally raised my adopted son to the throne... in the end, he gave me a bowl of poison. My name is Tham Van Thu, I am a person who has died once. In my previous life, I gradually climbed from a lowly talented person to the highest position in the harem. Overthrew three generations of queens and sent away two emperors. In the end, she personally raised her adopted son to the dragon throne, becoming the most noble Queen Mother of Dai Luong. Anyone who looks at it will say that this life is my power to rule the world, my glory is limitless. But at the last moment... The person who brought that cup of poison before me was the good grandchild that I raised myself. He knelt in front of my bed, his voice so gentle and terrifying:

“Grandmother, you are so tired.”

“I send you off to rest.”

Rest in his ancestors. Before I died, there was only one thought left in my mind. If there is an afterlife... Whoever is still competing for favor, seizing power, and competing with this royal family... is truly sick in the head. Then after that. I am truly alive again. Reincarnated back at the age of sixteen. When he first entered the palace... Just the lowest talent. At this time, I was lying on the stiff bed reserved for maids, my eyes staring at the gray curtain above my head. In my ears were sobs that were sometimes intense, sometimes disjointed, some were dreaming of the future, some were filled with fear. So loud it makes my head hurt. I turned over and pulled the thin blanket over my head. Let go. In this life, our creed of life can only be summed up in those two words. Recruitment? Just go for it, if you fail, the better. Enter the palace? Just eat until you're full and wait to die, absolutely don't compete to stand out. Emperor? Whoever wants to serve will serve, I don't have time. Competing for favor, winning positions, overthrowing this person, forcing that person to death? Huh, what about climbing to the top in my past life? Isn't it just a cup of poisoned wine that ends the debt? Bored to the extreme. Now, I just hope to find a quiet corner, bask in the sun to warm up, eat some breakfast, and then live peacefully until the end of my life. It's best to die in bed in old age. On the day of the selection, the weather was cool and windy. I deliberately chose a pale blue palace outfit that had been washed until it was faded, the color was as bland as water used to wash a pot. Her face was even more sloppy, her makeup was unevenly applied, and she also deliberately added an unsightly matchmaking mole on her left cheek. Casually wrap the most rustic round bun and add a smooth silver brooch without any pattern. The whole person exuded an aura that clearly spelled out the words "don't choose me, choosing me is bad luck". In the middle of a group of beautiful girls wearing gorgeous makeup, trying their best to show off themselves, I looked like a lost rotten mustard plant, extremely unsightly. The mother in charge of the preliminary selection frowned, glanced at me like she was looking at trash, then immediately placed me in the outermost corner, the most hidden position. I bowed my head, staring at the toes of my shoes that were worn to the point of being furry, thinking about whether Ngu Thien Phong would make my favorite flower waffles this afternoon or not.

“Raise your head.”

A low, calm voice rang out from the front. I reflexively raised my head. A few steps away, the bright yellow dragon robe was so bright that it made my eyes squint slightly. The young emperor, Tieu Dien. More than twenty years old, with a delicate appearance, an unnoticeable trace of fatigue appeared between his eyebrows came out, along with... a cold thing that couldn't be clearly explained. His eyes were like two bottomless puddles of cold water, falling straight onto people. My heart fluttered a little. It's not. I've made it this far, am I still being watched? I quickly bowed my head even lower, wishing I could crawl straight to the ground.

“You,” Tieu Dien's voice did not waver at all, “what is your name?”

I had a stiff scalp and replied in a small voice like a buzzing mosquito:

“Your Majesty, servant… Tham Van Thu.”

“Tham Van Thu…” he repeated in a low voice, unable to hear his emotions.

Next to him, the chief eunuch, Phuc An, skillfully observed his face and immediately smiled and commented:

“Your Majesty, this talented man looks… well, quite… rustic.”

Isn't it an understatement to say that we are extremely poor? In my heart I nodded like pounding garlic: yes yes yes, I am rustic, I am cold, I am not worthy, quickly let me go away. Tieu Dien did not answer Phuc An's words, his eyes still stayed on my face. That gaze was calm and unruffled, but it seemed to carry a tangible weight, pressing so hard that I had a bit of difficulty breathing. Very bad.