Chapter 2 — In my previous life, I fought for three generations of queens, but in this life I just want to eat my fill

In his previous life, when he was casting, Tieu Dien didn't even bother to glance at me, a low-level actress like this. At that time, in his eyes, in his heart, there was only his childhood sweetheart, his bright moonlight, the person who later became Dung Quy Phi. Minor characters like me are purely a backdrop. Could it be that when reborn, the butterfly's wings flapped out of orbit? Just when my heart was confused and uneasy, silently praying for him to quickly avert his eyes, Tieu Dien opened his mouth. The voice was not loud, but it clearly echoed throughout the school:

"Tham Thi Van Thu, awarded the rank of 8th Grade Thai Nu Chinh, ban cu... Thinh Truc Hien."

It was like a thunderclap exploded in my head. Thinh Truc Hien. It is true that the fragrant cake is being fought over. I'm just a talented person of the lowest rank, no, now I'm a Thai lady, there's no use in going up half a level to half that level. So based on what do we get to be in that place? And the eyes he just looked at me... Absolutely not the eyes for a strange girl meeting for the first time. So deep that it made my heart pound, and a layer of cold sweat broke out on my back in an instant. The surrounding air seemed frozen. Countless eyes filled with surprise, jealousy, and scrutiny, like dense needles, simultaneously pinned on him. I even heard the young ladies next to me inhale a cold breath. Dung Quy Phi, no, right now is still Dung Concubine, standing in the front row, closest to the emperor. On that absolutely beautiful face that I was so familiar with that I couldn't be more familiar, the blood drained away in the blink of an eye, leaving only an incredibly pale look and... a trace of insulted anger. She suddenly turned her head to look at me, her eyes as sharp as blades. Before he went to war, he was defeated. My plan to give up, as soon as it started, encountered the devil. Thinh Truc Hien is indeed a good place. The yard is not large, but it is quiet and elegant, covered with green bamboo bushes, and the wind blows and makes a rustling sound. The distance to Death Temple is so close that it makes people crazy. This place is the center of the storm. I sat on a hard wooden chair covered with green fabric cushions that were half new and half old, looking at the utensils and fabrics brought by the Internal Affairs Palace, which clearly exceeded the expectations of a Thai lady, and felt cold in my heart. Isn't that where Dung Quy Phi lived when she first entered the palace in her previous life? Closest to the Emperor's Death Palace, it is the place where everyone in the harem looks at it.

“Young master, Mr. Truong from the Internal Affairs Palace said that these things were specially ordered by His Majesty.”

My maid, a round-faced lady named Xuan Dao, cautiously observed my face. Xuan Dao was chosen by us. In a group of palace maids, some are cunning, some are flattering, only she looks the most sincere, with clear eyes, but also a bit timid. What we need is that kind of person, worry less, don't cause trouble. I replied lightly, pointing at the expensive-looking items: "Put them all in storage, don't display them." Xuan Dao was stunned, "Little master, this matter... is not according to the rules. This is a reward from His Majesty."

“Rules?”

I curled my lips slightly, "Your Majesty, I'm afraid you suddenly became dizzy and pointed at the wrong person. We have to be moderate and humble ourselves, understand." Xuan Dao half understood and half did not nod, but still obeyed and brought it All those eyesores have been removed. The room was restored to its original simplicity, and my heart was now a little more at peace. No, you have to save yourself. This emperor's attitude is so strange. He cannot "look at me with different eyes" without reason. Could it be that... he was also reborn? As soon as this thought flashed, I was startled and immediately felt ridiculous. How is that possible? Reincarnation is not a white cabbage, you can have it if you want it. Or... because of this face. I walked to the dim bronze mirror and carefully looked at it. Tham Van Thu was sixteen years old, his facial features had not yet fully blossomed, with a bit of immaturity, at most he could only be considered delicate and good-looking, 18,000 miles away from the two words "turning the country to the city".