I pushed back from the glowing screen, rubbing the dark circles under my eyes. The coffee in my mug had long gone cold, and I was deep into my friend's terrible historical novel manuscript.
"Seriously, why is this Official's Daughter so obsessed with the Current Crown Prince? Can't she just give up the power struggle and enjoy being rich?" I muttered to myself, annoyed by her relentless ambition. Frankly, translating her scheming dialogue was exhausting.
Just then, a line of text on my computer screen didn't just glow—it flared. A harsh, unnatural blue light pulsed from the screen, striking my face with the heat of a tiny sun. My head swam, my vision warped, and before I could even register the pain, I slumped over my desk.
When I opened my eyes again, the scent of dust and warm electronics was gone, replaced by the heavy, sweet fragrance of expensive sandalwood. I was lying on something ridiculously soft. I reached out and felt the cool, unfamiliar texture of silk brocade.
My heart hammered against my ribs. No. No way.
I sat bolt upright. I was in a massive, ornate bed, surrounded by dark wood carvings and heavy drapes. I looked down. I was wearing an elaborate palace dress that felt far too heavy and stifling.
The information rushed in, unbidden: Official's Daughter... Linwai... Palace... Manuscript.
"Oh my god. I transmigrated. I'm in the novel."
Panic quickly turned into pragmatism. This body's original owner was that ruthless woman who coveted power and was obsessed with the Current Crown Prince. Worse, according to the small plot summary I'd glanced at, this woman was fated to be used by the much more powerful Next Crown Prince as a concubine, only to be destroyed by her rivals.
Absolutely not. No palace drama. No schemes. No heartbreak. My only goals now were simple: Find the best kitchen, locate the quietest napping spot, and definitely, absolutely, find the most beautiful flower garden.
I was still contemplating which imperial chef to bribe when the doors burst open without a word of warning from any servant.
Standing there was a young woman, dressed in fine silk, but with a face contorted by spite. Her eyes were sharp, judging. Ah, the original owner's rival. I recognized her from the character notes: the jealous Cousin.
"Elder Sister!" she called, the concern in her voice laced with blatant mockery. "I heard you collapsed and rushed over! Are you alright? You can't be ill now, not with your engagement to the Current Crown Prince looming!"
I simply stared at her. The Original Linwai would have spat fire. But I, the Translator Linwai, merely shrugged, already bored.
"I'm fine. Just a little dizzy and extremely hungry," I replied flatly. "You came all this way? Thank you. Say, which section of the imperial flower garden is blooming most beautifully right now? I need something relaxing to look at. And can your servants bring me some snacks?"
The Cousin's expression froze, her mouth slightly ajar. The arrogance in her eyes was momentarily replaced by genuine bewilderment. My complete lack of concern for the Crown Prince—or, indeed, for her—was clearly not the reaction she expected.
Good. Confusion is my greatest weapon. Let them think I've gone mad.
"The gardens? Sister, are you certain you're well? What about your future with the royal family?" she stammered, suspicion now outweighing her malice.
I waved a hand dismissively. "The royal family will be fine. Tell me about the snacks. Do they have anything sweet? And does this dynasty have any good tea for sleeping?" My focus was entirely on my new, simple life plan.
I knew that outside these walls, great forces—including the ruthless Next Crown Prince—were beginning to move against me. But for now, my only priority was finding some quiet to appreciate the aesthetics of this gilded cage, and perhaps, a really good nap.