Chapter 4: From This Day Forth, Your Name is Overlord

“Since my beloved consort has defended me with such merit,” the emperor said, his voice dripping with faux sweetness, “how about Zhen bestows upon you the grace of leaving this desolate Cold Palace and returning to your Rong Hua Palace?”

Qin Wan’s almond-shaped eyes widened comically. Having spent her life observing the subtle cues of human expression, she could practically feel the heat of the emperor’s suppressed rage.

She knew he was merely trying to appease her brother, the powerful general, by offering this olive branch. While she desperately wanted to escape the Cold Palace – freedom meant a chance to find a way back to her own time – she wasn’t stupid. This man knew she was the one who’d cracked his skull open. Letting her out now was akin to signing her death warrant.

“No, no, no!” she cried, waving her hands so frantically they threatened to take flight. “Your Majesty’s injury weighs heavily on my conscience. How could I exploit such a situation for my own gain? Protecting Your Majesty is my sworn duty, I seek no reward!”

A flicker of surprise crossed Jiang Beiyue’s cold features. Even her brother, Leng Lie, raised an eyebrow at her refusal.

“You… don’t want to leave?” Jiang Beiyue asked, incredulous.

“Of course, I want to leave!” Qin Wan insisted, her voice ringing with false conviction. “But, I was framed, Your Majesty, unjustly accused! Though you may not believe me now, I will clear my name with my own two hands and walk out of this place with my head held high!”

Jiang Beiyue exchanged a knowing glance with Leng Lie. “Very well,” he said, a hint of amusement in his tone. “It seems that Consort Leng prefers the tranquility of the Cold Palace. Zhen won’t force you. You are dismissed.”

“This humble consort takes her leave,” Qin Wan mumbled, relief flooding her as she practically bowed herself out of the room.

The moment she slipped through the door, she scurried away like a mouse evading a hungry cat. Jiang Beiyue watched her retreat, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes.

“Tsk, a guilty conscience betrays her,” he murmured. Turning to Leng Lie, he said, “As you can see, General, Consort Leng is perfectly fine. You may rest assured.”

Leng Lie, while genuinely relieved, kept up the charade. “My concern was primarily for Your Majesty’s well-being,” he said smoothly. “Now that I’ve seen you are well, I am at ease. I shall take my leave.”

Indeed, your feigned concern is touching. Jiang Beiyue thought to himself, but merely said, “You are dismissed.”

As Qin Wan hurried away, she stole a longing glance at the magnificent palace behind her. Golden glazed tiles shimmered under the sun, the air thick with an invisible aura of power. It was clear that this place, radiating auspicious energy and perfect feng shui, held immense importance.

She had just been in the royal study, she realized. The emperor’s bedchamber, the one she saw in the painting, was right next door. As she cautiously edged towards it, a guard materialized before her, blocking her path.

“Your Majesty,” he said, his tone respectful but firm, “this is not the way. The Cold Palace is in the opposite direction.”

Defeated, Qin Wan trudged back towards the dilapidated shack that was now her prison.

“Caw, caw,” two crows mocked her from their perch on a withered branch as she reached the peeling, faded red door of the Cold Palace. With a heart-wrenching groan, she pushed it open, only to have it promptly fall off its hinges and crash onto the dusty ground.

Qin Wan: ….

Damnit, she doesn’t want to stay in this crappy place for another day!

She’d barely stepped into the weed-infested courtyard when Xiao Zhima, her young maidservant, emerged from the kitchen, a metal spatula clutched in her hand and a smudge of soot on her cheek.

“Welcome back, Your Majesty,” the girl chirped. “You must be hungry. Dinner is almost ready!”

Qin Wan followed her into the cramped, smoky kitchen. The sight that greeted her was… underwhelming, to say the least. A lone pot of watery congee bubbled sadly over the fire, accompanied by a half-empty plate of what looked suspiciously like leftovers from several meals ago – pickled vegetables.

“This… is it?” Qin Wan asked, her voice flat. “This is what we’re having for lunch?”

Xiao Zhima blinked at her in confusion. “This is what we always have, Your Majesty,” she replied. “If you’re tired of it, I can go dig up some wild vegetables from the yard and make dumplings for dinner.”

Qin Wan fought back a groan. “What about that rooster in the yard?” she asked, trying to remember what little she knew of the Cold Palace.

Xiao Zhima looked at her in horror. “You mean the one the Bureau of Internal Affairs assigned to each palace for morning calls? To help Your Majesty keep a proper schedule?”

“Stew it.”

Xiao Zhima, despite her initial reservations, eventually agreed. In truth, the poor girl had been eyeing the plump rooster for weeks.

As they huddled in the courtyard, happily gnawing on tender chicken legs and sipping savory broth, a strange sound reached Qin Wan’s ears. A muffled whimpering and “woo, woo woo,” seemed to be coming from the direction of the woodshed.

What in the world could be making that noise?

She cautiously pushed open the creaking wooden door. In the darkest corner, she found the source of the sound: a small, pathetic-looking Tibetan Mastiff. The poor creature was so thin that its bones were practically poking through its matted fur.

“What…?” she breathed, utterly bewildered.

Suddenly, a wave of memories flooded her mind.

This was “Fa Cai,” the original owner’s pet.

“A dog indeed reflects its owner’s fortune,” Qin Wan muttered to herself. There was no mistaking it; without the original owner’s power and influence, even her pet had become a timid shadow of its former self. She’d never seen a Tibetan Mastiff so… wimpy.

With a sigh, Qin Wan tossed the dog a chicken leg and crossed her arms. “From this day forth,” she declared, staring down at the startled animal, “your name is Overlord.”

Her mind was made up. Since she was stuck here for the foreseeable future, she might as well treat this whole experience like a game. She would live her life to the fullest, level up her character, and, in the meantime, search for a way back to her own world.

As she sat back down to finish her meal, she heard a commotion coming from the direction of the Cold Palace entrance.

“The Emperor has arrived!”

Before Xiao Zhima could react, Qin Wan had already hidden the chicken soup and replaced it with the plate of questionable-looking pickled vegetables.