At the age of sixteen, Gao Yuexing married the most sought-after Prince Xiang in the capital.

From then on, Gao Yuexing’s life seemed as if it were blessed, smooth and effortless, showered with endless favor. From a sheltered young lady of a noble family, she became the legitimate princess consort, and later the highly revered crown princess. Beside Prince Xiang, there was no other woman except her.

Flames burned bright, and blossoms bloomed in splendor.

But only Gao Yuexing herself was fully aware of the truth.

Prince Xiang had a handkerchief embroidered with begonia flowers, which he had kept close to his heart for many years, never parting with it.

It was a girl’s item, but it wasn’t hers.

Caught in a calamity, she was suddenly reborn and returned to her childhood years.

The six-year-old Gao Yuexing, delicate and exquisite like a carved jade doll, looked at the handkerchief in her embroidery basket. The begonia flowers were only half-stitched, but the needlework was identical to the handkerchief Prince Xiang had secretly treasured for half his life.

As she closed her eyes and sorted through her past memories, she vaguely recalled the scenes before the end of her sixth year and clearly remembered the banquet at her home on her ninth birthday.

However, between the ages of six and nine, those three years of time were completely blank.

It was as if someone had plucked those memories away from her out of thin air.

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