Renascida e Obrigada a Casar para se Tornar Imperatriz: a Filha Legítima Banha a Capital em Sangue

Wen Yunmu was dead.

On that night filled with earth-shattering battle cries, clad in a tattered, revealing gauze robe with an iron chain bound around her neck, she had been dragged half-dead up the East Gate tower. There, before the eyes of tens of thousands, and right in front of her father, Wen Changqing, the Marquis of Pingjing, she was subjected to utter humiliation between the battlements. Then, her husband, Lu Jia'an, raised his foot and kicked her off the city wall.

Her final sight was of her father, coughing up blood as he collapsed from his horse.

Yet now, she was alive. She lay in her maiden bedchamber, clutching a soft satin quilt. The morning sun dazzled her eyes, bringing forth a rush of tears that washed over her face.

Was this a second life? Could it be a dream?

Panicked, Wen Yunmu reached up to touch her hair. Sure enough, a small hairpin remained exactly where it had always been. She pressed the sharp point of the pin into her palm. It bled, and she felt the sharp sting of pain.

Had she truly been reborn? Would the meticulous plans she had spun during those dark, endless nights finally have a chance to become reality?

For countless nights, as she felt the cold stone bricks of her prison, she had retraced the steps of her tragic life over and over again, silently praying that if Heaven ever granted her another chance, she would not waste her life so foolishly. She would slay her enemies with her own hands and protect her family.

Looking at her bleeding palm, Wen Yunmu clenched her fist tightly and