The Hated Concubine's Second Life

Pain. That was the first thing Bai Yu felt when he woke up. A sharp, burning pain in his throat, as if he had been choking on something.

His eyes fluttered open, but instead of his sleek modern penthouse ceiling, he was greeted by a crumbling wooden roof with cracks so wide that cold wind whistled through. The dim candlelight flickered weakly, casting eerie shadows across the damp walls. The room smelled of mold, decay, and something worse—was that urine?

Disgusted, Bai Yu pushed himself up, only to feel an unfamiliar weight pulling at his body. His hands, once clean and manicured, were now rough and trembling. His wrists bore bruises, his skin was sickly pale, and his long, silk robes were in absolute ruins—dirty, torn, and barely covering his body.

Before he could even process the sheer misery of his situation, a flood of memories surged into his mind, hitting him so hard he clutched his head in agony.

Yan Qing. Hated concubine. The one everyone despised. A beautiful male concubine forced into the imperial harem, framed for seduction, beaten, ridiculed, and abandoned in the Cold Palace. The man whose body he now inhabited had suffered years of abuse and had died alone, choking on poisoned tea.

Bai Yu had transmigrated. Into a damn tragic beauty.