Pei Shiyuan always thought that, as a concubine-born daughter, the reason she thrived in her maiden household was thanks to her tea skills—win over her father, and she’d be set. She was quite proud of herself for it… until she entered the backyard of the Eighth Prince.

The Eighth Prince:

His mother, the Noble Consort, was so favored she eclipsed the Empress herself.

Her clan held such overwhelming power that no official could breathe freely.

And he, drenched in imperial favor, left no room for any other prince to rise.

Everyone, from court to harem, loathed this mother-son pair and wished to see them fall—

But alas, the Noble Consort remained radiant, and the Eighth Prince stayed arrogant.

Pei Shiyuan’s take on it?

“Eat whatever you want, there’s no cure. I’ve read enough novels to know: people like him are textbook villains. They usually get sacrificed for the main character’s growth arc… or, if not, stabbed to death in broad daylight.”

She shrugged. “Let it be. This plot’s doomed.”

So she started acting out too—after all, who knows how long the good days would last?

Drink while there’s wine; deal with tomorrow when it comes.

What she never expected—was that the Eighth Prince had a long life ahead.

And then, one day, he declared he’d clean up the chaos in his backyard.

The tea masters, the drama queens, the white lotuses, the black-hearted schemers—

They’d all be out of luck.

Pei Shiyuan counted on her fingers.

“Well, that’s it. I’m definitely doomed this time.”

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