Chapter 1 — TVF Chapter 1

The Love-Brained Villain Empress

An old book wreathed in murky black-gray qi slowly appeared before his eyes. Qin Jingzhou frowned slightly, but still reached out and flipped open the cover.

It was a rather old-fashioned Mary Sue–style palace intrigue novel.

The female lead, Qi Langhuan, was born into an aristocratic official family—beautiful, talented, and long since betrothed to the male lead, her cousin, Prince Jing.

Who could have expected that when Qi Langhuan entered the palace with her family, the emperor would fall for her at first sight during a flower-viewing banquet? With a single imperial decree, no matter how unwilling she was, she had no choice but to enter the palace and serve the ruler.

The emperor was genuinely fond of Qi Langhuan. She was initially bestowed the rank of concubine, but within less than a year—despite bearing no children—she rose steadily to the position of Noble Consort.

From then on, rumors constantly circulated in the palace that His Majesty intended to depose the empress. Coincidentally, the emperor had recently been flying into rages over trivial matters and repeatedly taking them out on Empress Xiao. The empress, who had initially thought this was nothing more than a passing fancy, finally found herself unable to remain calm.

They slandered each other and framed each other, both sides playing innocent while pointing fingers. In the end, the empress and the noble consort dragged their respective natal families—and their families’ allies—into the struggle, extending the fight from the inner palace all the way to the imperial court.

The emperor had long since grown tired of the empress and, most of the time, favored the noble consort. Occasionally, however, he would be persuaded by the empress and mete out some minor punishment to the noble consort. Victories and losses were shared between the two, and no one could say which side—the east wind or the west wind—would prevail. Naturally, this plunged both court and palace into endless chaos, until the south was struck by a once-in-decades catastrophic flood.

When natural disasters are mishandled, human calamities inevitably follow.

With danger pressing at his heels and even the throne itself at risk, the emperor was frantic. He no longer had the heart to indulge in romantic entanglements and finally remembered to devote himself to matters of true importance. He was no fool—he knew full well that amassing troops inevitably led to finding an excuse to “cleanse the court” and march north.

He hurriedly dispatched men and troops everywhere to quell unrest. Yet despite sending plenty of men and spending vast sums of silver, the regional princes seemed to have reached an unspoken agreement and began hoarding troops. Among them was Prince Jing—Qi Langhuan’s beloved.

The situation was as precarious as stacked eggs. The emperor was deeply anxious, unable to sleep for several nights in a row. After much deliberation, he still went to seek comfort from the understanding Noble Consort.

Noble Consort Qi had just given birth to a son and wore an air of contentment that came with having a child. What the emperor believed to be heartfelt confessions sounded to her like nothing more than desperate complaints at the end of the road. At this time, her lover Prince Jing was on the verge of achieving his grand ambition—she could not even be bothered to feign sympathy.

Unable to get the response he wanted from the noble consort, the emperor had no choice but to settle for visiting the empress.

Seeing the empress’s delight at his arrival, he suddenly realized that the only person who had remained unwavering toward him all along was her. Sooner or later, he would deal with the noble consort—once he legitimately stripped her natal family of its military power!

Having gained comfort and peace from the empress, the emperor’s mood improved slightly. At that moment, an inner eunuch rushed in to report: rebel troops had stormed the city gates and were less than five li from the palace!

The emperor leapt to his feet, shoved the empress aside, and fled without the slightest hesitation—abandoning the empress, the concubines, princes, and princesses, as well as tens of thousands of palace servants and guards. Taking only a handful of confidants and twenty thousand imperial troops, he escaped through the northern gate and fled the capital…

With that single flight, the emperor not only abandoned his wives, children, and relatives, but also left behind the entire imperial clan and all the court officials.

And the main force of the so-called “rebels” was none other than the elite troops accumulated over three generations by Prince Jing.

Prince Jing’s acting skills were superb. Taking advantage of the chaos, he reached an agreement with the bewildered imperial clan members and officials: the emperor who had abandoned his wives and children was deposed, and the Noble Consort’s son—the sixth prince, still swaddled in infancy—was enthroned. Qi Langhuan assumed the title of Empress Dowager and ruled from behind the curtain.

Ascending to Empress Dowager, Qi Langhuan naturally took revenge on the spot.

The deposed emperor’s Empress Xiao was dragged before her by eunuchs. Qi Langhuan watched with her own eyes as her confidants first forced poisoned wine down the throat of Empress Xiao’s only daughter, then strangled Empress Xiao herself with white silk.

At the moment the silk wrapped around her neck, the empress finally burst into tears. Her only last words were: “Regret! I regret letting my obedient, caring daughter be born from the womb of a foolish mother like me!”

Seeing this, Qin Jingzhou commented, “This empress still seems salvageable,” and continued reading.

After eliminating the enemy who had plagued her for half her life, Qi Langhuan indulged in intimate revelry with Prince Jing—ear to ear, night after night—for three whole days to celebrate her vengeance. From then on, her heart felt unburdened.

Next, defying all opposition, Qi Langhuan rewarded Prince Jing—who had “forced back the rebels”—by appointing him as Regent, granting him the privileges of entering court without hastening his steps, being saluted without having his name spoken, and wearing sword and shoes into the hall.

Prince Jing reached the pinnacle of power; Qi Langhuan became the Empress Dowager ruling behind the curtain. She believed the timing was perfect to openly rekindle her relationship with her beloved cousin. Who would have thought Prince Jing would refuse?

The reason: after she entered the palace as a consort, Prince Jing had taken a proper wife. Over the years, the number of concubines in his household had risen into the double digits, and his children numbered more than twenty—excluding those who had died young… Most importantly, Prince Jing had no intention of divorcing his wife.

The two quarreled and parted on bad terms.

Soon after, the Princess Consort of Prince Jing entered the palace. Not only did she refuse to humble herself before Qi Langhuan, Qi Langhuan’s heart felt as if it were being fried in oil. Watching her lover exchange affectionate glances with his wife, thinking of the group of shameless women clinging to him back at the prince’s manor, she realized that she was suffering even more now than when she had been a noble consort in the palace.

After much thought, Qi Langhuan still could not restrain herself and began tearing into Prince Jing’s women. However, the natal families of the princess consort and two side consorts were not to be trifled with—and they had followed Prince Jing not for love.

Using every trick at her disposal and sparing no cost to bribe countless people, Qi Langhuan finally framed the princess consort for poisoning the young emperor. She brought her down and took the opportunity to cripple her natal family.

Prince Jing realized he had neglected his beloved and decisively entered the palace to sincerely apologize. Qi Langhuan could not resist reconciling with him… Two years later, the two had another son, achieving complete fulfillment. Yes—the biological father of the former Sixth Prince, now the young emperor, was Prince Jing.

After finishing the novel, Qin Jingzhou was reminded of that famous meme from the internet back home: an old man, a subway, a phone.

After a moment of silence, he asked the system, “If this dynasty doesn’t collapse, there’s no justice in heaven.”

The system replied, “The novel ends with the ‘former emperor’ who fled reflecting deeply, accumulating strength, and even borrowing troops from other countries and forces. He makes a comeback and kills the male and female leads in one fell swoop—Prince Jing’s wife’s younger brother personally opens the city gates. But soon after, the former emperor is killed by several regional princes who react in time. Borrowed troops, you know—easy to get, hard to send away. By the time the realm is pacified, thirty years have passed.”

Qin Jingzhou asked sincerely, “Karma checks out overall. Is there really a place for me to intervene here?”

The system said, “The villainous empress in the novel was once a ten-lifetimes good person. After her unjust death, she could never let go of her daughter’s tragic end and, in her rage, cursed this small world. Even if the realm is temporarily pacified, no benevolent or heroic ruler will arise in the next hundred years to establish a golden age and offset that curse.”

“And what does the destruction of this small world have to do with you?”

The system flashed an awkward emoji. “This small world is one of many under our main system.”

Qin Jingzhou understood. “So it’s that the villains all have some background and karmic roots. They die unjustly or with unfulfilled wishes, throwing their worlds into turmoil?”

“Exactly,” the system explained proactively. “You’ll transmigrate into Empress Xiao’s father. As long as you ensure that after her death she no longer curses this small world, that will suffice. As for compensation, we’ll fully cover the necessary cultivation resources during your binding period. Other resources will be discounted by twenty percent. How does that sound?”

Considering his own cultivation level, this was a very sincere offer.

However, Qin Jingzhou was single—no girlfriend, let alone children. Being a father right off the bat… He said, “I’ll do my best.”

Putting himself in another’s shoes: if he had an invincible father who genuinely considered his interests, he might not obey everything—but he would certainly be willing to listen.

Invincible—he was good at that. Considering others… he wasn’t entirely confident, which was why he said “do my best.”

The system’s tone was cheerful. “The empress’s father, Duke Cheng’en Xiao Jingzhou, has just breathed his last. Let me know when you’re ready, and I’ll initiate the transfer.”

Qin Jingzhou said, “Begin.”

His body sank. After sensing it briefly, he couldn’t help feeling disdain: this body was in terrible condition. Pill toxins had invaded his lungs and organs—even if he hadn’t died this time, he wouldn’t have had many years left.

He slowly opened his eyes. Darkness surrounded him. With effort, he raised an arm and groped around: square and rigid—a big box. Outside, faint sounds of arguing and crying drifted in…

He summoned the system. “Just died and already being sealed into a coffin?”

The system replied lightly, “Flip the coffin lid. You can do it.”

The daoist temple where the original owner had secluded himself for cultivation was small to begin with. The mourning hall had been hastily set up. Third Miss Xiao sat in a corner, crying uncontrollably. Truth be told, her father hadn’t been particularly attentive to his children—including her brothers—but upon hearing that he was gone, gone from taking his own refined elixirs, she was still devastated.

After her father surrendered his military authority, no matter how unreliable he became, as long as he lived, the Duke Cheng’en’s residence stood firm. Now that he was gone… Could they really rely on those two illegitimate brothers before her, who were already quarreling over the million taels of silver inheritance right in front of their father’s spirit tablet?

As Third Miss Xiao cried, the rustling sounds grew louder. She followed the noise—and her expression warped in terror: the long nails sealing the coffin were popping up, inch by inch.

The maid guarding her followed her gaze, her knees giving out as she collapsed to the ground with a thud.

Third Miss Xiao didn’t even have time to call out before the thick coffin lid shot skyward, arcing through the air and flying straight toward the two young masters who were tugging at each other’s collars in front of the coffin.

Startled, one curled up and rolled on the spot clutching his head; the other twisted around and ran. Both narrowly avoided the forceful, heavy… coffin lid.

The thick lid slammed into the ground with a dull thud. Wood chips flew, stinging faces as they struck.

No one dared move. All eyes turned toward the coffin.

The two young masters were utterly petrified. Staring at the figure emerging from the coffin, they stammered, “F-Father? Father! Didn’t you take the elixir and… ascend?”

This—this isn’t corpse reanimation, is it?!

Qin Jingzhou stepped forward, climbed out of the coffin, coughed lightly, and spat out the pill stuck in his throat.

The elixir rolled away, clattering until it stopped by the feet of the young master who had spoken of ascension.

Qin Jingzhou tugged at the corner of his mouth, forcing a smile. His voice was hoarse. “What? You want to try ascending too? Eat this elixir and you’ll know.”

The young master stared at the pill at his feet—what should have been snow-white, now smeared with dust and streaked with blood. After a moment of stunned silence, his face turned ashen and he collapsed onto the ground.

The other was more sensible. He dropped to his knees at once and frankly admitted fault. “It’s all the son’s fault! I beg you, Father… be gentle when you strike…”

Qin Jingzhou looked toward the guards at the doorway, who were just as stunned. “Since you’re willing to be punished, give each of them ten strokes to start—just to set the tone.”

Though the original owner had been unreliable in recent years, he had still been a battle-hardened general. Qin Jingzhou spoke in his skin; the guards naturally obeyed without question.

Two guards each dragged one young master out of the mourning hall and immediately began beating them with boards in the courtyard.

At the first stroke, both burst into tears.

By the fifth, they were sobbing uncontrollably.

Qin Jingzhou sat boldly on the edge of the coffin. “They didn’t cry this hard when they heard I was dead.”

As soon as he finished speaking, Third Miss Xiao threw herself before him, eyes red-rimmed. “Father! Please help Eldest Sister! She’s being bullied to death by the noble consort and her natal family! Second Sister has been implicated as well—her situation… isn’t good. She sent word yesterday asking me to tell Eldest Sister and Eldest Brother.”

Qin Jingzhou frowned slightly and asked the system, “Which point in the plot are we at now?”

The system replied, “Prince Jing’s ‘rebellion’ has largely taken shape. He’s just waiting for the chance to march north.”

Qin Jingzhou said calmly, “Then I need to find a way to reclaim military authority. If I lose my life, there’s no need to teach the kids anymore.”

“Yes.”

It was true that the original owner had died suddenly from poisoning by his own refined “elixir.” But before the family even arrived, the servants attending him had already sealed him into a coffin and driven in the nails. Whoever was behind this had clearly planned it well in advance.

Moreover, only two illegitimate sons and his unmarried youngest daughter—three rather useless ones—had rushed over upon hearing the news…

Qin Jingzhou abruptly stood up and ordered the steward, who still hadn’t fully recovered, “Bind the ones who served me. Pack up—we’re returning to the capital!”