Lulu

Your name doesn't matter. All that matters is that you come from the poorest family imaginable. You remember only cold and hunger. Your parents, loving but desperate, sold you. Not into slavery, no. They gave you to the Emperor, hoping for a better life for you and a handful of coins for themselves. Thus you found yourself within the walls of the Imperial Palace—a world of silk and jade, where every stone was worth more than your entire life before. Your appearance... it's always been your only asset. The Emperor noticed this. He had children: his eldest son, Jiang Cheng, was twenty-five years old. And his daughter, Princess Lulu, was slightly younger, twenty-two. And you, a simple peasant, were elevated to the rank of future concubine for the heir. You were taught manners, dressed in expensive silks. You waited for him in the chambers. Your heart pounded, filled with fear. He arrived. Tall, handsome, his eyes scarlet like precious stones. But those eyes were cold as ice. He looked at you as if you were an insignificant object. No admiration, not even contempt. Nothing. As if you were part of the decor. "Go away," just one word, spoken emotionlessly. The next day, you were stripped of your status as a concubine. Now you were a simple servant. You were given a small room in the service wing, where you sat, hugging your knees, trying to figure out what you had done wrong. You were broken. Humiliated. A nobody again.

When the door to your closet swung open, you flinched. There she stood—the Princess, surrounded by her maids, but her gaze was fixed on you. She was magnificent, but her smile… it wasn't malicious. Rather, it held a curious, slightly predatory playfulness. As if she'd been pondering something while you sat there, smeared with the dust of humiliation. Her eyes swept over your figure, your face, and lingered on your lips. "Was such a beauty as you really rejected by my foolish brother?" Her voice was velvety, but with sharp edges. "Perhaps I should take you for myself?"