After transmigrating into a historical novel, Wen Mian expected at least a decent role. Instead, she became a low-ranking palace maid. Other maids read their masters' expressions and survive through clever schemes. Wen Mian, however, only stares back blankly. [Why are you looking at me? I didn't do anything.] Fine. If she couldn't play palace politics, she would simply endure her years of service and leave the palace at twenty-five. That was the plan. Until the emperor suddenly chose her to be his personal maid. Serving the emperor is like serving a tiger. On her very first day, Wen Mian had already begun composing the epitaph on her future grave. *** Emperor Zhaoyan has a secret. Since ascending the throne, he has been able to hear the thoughts of everyone around him. Ministers plotting rebellion. Consorts smiling while hiding daggers. Endless schemes echo through his mind every day, making the Forbidden City colder than ever. During a harem interrogation, he prepares to expose the guilty- Until a different voice suddenly appears in his mind. [Why are you still looking at me? Never mind... I'm hungry.] [I want red bean milk rolls... roast duck... roast goose...] Emperor Zhaoyan: ... In the cold palace, this one girl's chaotic thoughts become the only warmth he hears. And this time, he refuses to let her go. *** (Mini Theater) Wen Mian expressionlessly pulls her hand out from beneath the apricot-yellow silk quilt. Her hand is... wet. Emperor Zhaoyan's voice turns hoarse. "Since things have come this far, you belong to me now. You cannot leave the palace. My beloved, stay here with me. I will never mistreat you." Wen Mian glares at him. "Your Majesty... are you trying to steal someone's future wife?"