Summary

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[A powerful heroine with the ultimate “white moonlight” aura + doted on by everyone + strong female lead]

For sixteen years, Qin Buwen lived disguised as a man, serving as one of the empire’s most notorious treacherous officials.

At the height of her infamy, she was so despised that in all of Chang’an, even a stray dog would rather take a detour than cross her path.

In the end, she was betrayed by the very people she trusted. Abandoned by everyone, Qin Buwen threw herself from a high tower.

But instead of dying, she awakens five years in the future.

This time, she’s done pretending to be a ruthless, power-hungry villain.

Instead…

She’s going to play the role of a frail, delicate little green tea.

When a noble young lady falsely accuses her, she simply kneels on the ground, tears shimmering in her eyes.

Everyone: “She’s so gentle and defenseless. There’s no way she’s at fault!”

When a cunning prince humiliates her, she dabs at her tears with a handkerchief and bites her rosy lip.

The court officials: “She’s already so pitiful. Your Highness, you’ve gone too far!”

When the scumbag who betrayed her kidnaps her again, she immediately throws herself into someone’s arms.

“Grand Secretary, I’m so scared~”

The Grand Secretary coldly replies, “She couldn’t even hurt a chicken. Yet you’re cruel enough to bully her like this?”

Qin Buwen becomes more and more immersed in her role as a harmless little green tea, thoroughly enjoying herself.

Playing the villain could never compare to playing the victim.

But can someone please explain why the Grand Secretary—who used to be at odds with her at every turn—is looking at her more and more strangely?

Late one night, the scumbag comes to Qin Buwen, confessing his lingering feelings and telling her how much he misses her.

The noble and immaculate Grand Secretary, drunk with reddened eyes, quietly says,

“Qin Buwen… Whatever he can do, I can do too.”

Everyone in Chang’an knows that the Grand Secretary of Wenyuan Pavilion, Ji Junjiao, is famous for being dignified, disciplined, and as cold and untouchable as fresh snow.

Yet somehow, a ridiculously affected, coquettish young woman has appeared at his side.

Before long, the phrase most often heard from the Grand Secretary becomes:

“My family’s young lady is weak and delicate. I ask for everyone’s understanding.”

…But Your Excellency—

The “weak and delicate” young lady from your household just cracked someone’s skull open while you weren’t looking!

Novel Items

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Army
Qin Buwen's army of three hundred thousand soldiers. They were trapped, massacred, and buried alive by the conspiracy of the Second Prince Song Chengxuan and Li Yunmu. Their deaths were the central betrayal that drove Qin Buwen's quest for revenge.
Equipment
A fine jade thumb ring with delicate green Furong variety color. Stats: Agility +8, Max HP +25. Gender Restriction: Male. Durability: 350/350, repairable. Dropped by a Stone Monster after a three-hour fight. Moke Moke could not use it due to gender restriction and gave it as a gift to Cheng Shijia.
Treasure
A jade token given by Wang Songxin to Lin Yue for protection. He feared she might face dangers from refugees or bandits. It came in handy sooner than expected.
Item
A strange tattoo design found on the black-clad assassin's arm. Ji Junjiao sketched the symbol and had Changqing make several copies to search everywhere for clues related to the assassin's identity and organization.
Game
An ancient gambling game that Qin Buwen mastered during her years as the capital's most notorious young wastrel, along with brawling, cockfighting, raising crickets, cruising pleasure boats, and chasing beautiful women.
Token
A token with an emblem and inscription carved into it, belonging to a Northern Desert agent. Qin Buwen instinctively grabbed it from the assassin's waist when he held her hostage, then hid it among rubble in the abandoned temple before losing consciousness. She retrieves it secretly and uses it to confirm the assassin's identity as a Northern Desert agent.
Latest Release
DateGroupRelease
2026-08-11shanghai fantasy c30
2026-08-11shanghai fantasy c29
2026-08-11shanghai fantasy c28
2026-08-11shanghai fantasy c27
2026-08-11shanghai fantasy c26
2026-08-11shanghai fantasy c25
2026-08-11shanghai fantasy c24
2026-08-11shanghai fantasy c23
2026-08-11shanghai fantasy c22
2026-08-11shanghai fantasy c21
2026-08-11shanghai fantasy c20
2026-08-11shanghai fantasy c19

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Popular reviews

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The pacing in these chapters is absolutely ruthless and I am here for it. Let me trace the rhythm: We open with what could have been a fluffy, almost comedic scene—Ji Junjiao walking in on Qin Buwen, flustered and fleeing. It's light, it's tense in a romantic-comedy way, you're smiling. And then—BAM. The dream sequence. Fourteen-year-old Qin Buwen on her carriage, the barren earth, the young Yan Tang kneeling. The tone shifts from warm embarrassment to something much heavier, much more ominous. 'If you follow me, your path will be one where death is all but certain.' Then morning comes and we're thrust into Yan Tang's scene. The letter. The trembling. The coughing. The blood. The pacing ACCELERATES here—short sentences, fragmented dialogue, the physical reactions happening faster and more violently. 'Cough! Cough! Cough!' It's almost breathless to read. And then—Qin Buwen sneezes. 'Strange. She was already dead. Surely no one was still cursing her, right?' This is the author taking a deep breath before the next wave. A moment of dark humor, of character voice, before we get the Li Yunmu revelation. The transition from Yan Tang's breakdown to Qin Buwen's casual courtyard stroll is jarring in the best way. It creates this sense that the story is operating on multiple timelines and multiple emotional frequencies simultaneously. By the time she says 'It was time... To properly meet this old acquaintance of hers,' you are LOCKED IN. The chapter structure here is doing exactly what it should—each section raises the stakes while the previous one hasn't even resolved yet.
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Okay, so let me just say—this letter is the single most explosive object in the entire novel and I am SHAKING. Ji Junjiao hands Yan Tang this letter and the man literally loses his mind. Bloodshot eyes, violent trembling, coughing up blood like it's nothing. And the reader is just sitting there going WHAT IS THIS LETTER?? But here's what's brilliant about the plot construction: the author doesn't just drop this bomb and move on. We get Yan Tang's backstory woven in right after—the drought in Jiangning, the wheelchair, the Go game on the battlements, the overnight session with the Emperor. It's not filler, it's actually doing DOUBLE duty. It establishes Yan Tang as a once-in-a-generation genius, which makes his breakdown over this letter even MORE devastating. If he were just some random official, we wouldn't care as much. But he's THE Yan Tang, and he's falling apart over a piece of paper. And then—the Qin Buwen angle. She's been dead for five years. LI YUNMU SHOT HER. And she's standing right there, alive, pretending to be someone else, and she hears from Qingyue that Li Yunmu is currently sitting in Ji Junjiao's main hall waiting to meet her. The dramatic irony is absolutely suffocating in the best way. She sneezes right before this revelation like the universe itself is commenting on the absurdity of it all. The plot threads are converging like a freight train. Yan Tang suspects she might be alive. Qin Buwen is about to come face to face with the man who killed her. Ji Junjiao is completely oblivious to both of these landmines. I cannot wait to see what happens when these threads collide.
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"Fortunately, Ji Junjiao carried the faint fragrance of sandalwood on him. She unconsciously moved a little closer, finally feeling able to breathe again." I read that sentence five times. FIVE TIMES. This is the kind of detail that doesn't need to be there but absolutely should be. The brothel is saturated with heavy musk—sex, perfume, decay, the smell of people pretending to be something they're not—and the one clean scent in the entire room is Ji Junjiao's. Qin Buwen doesn't just notice it, she moves toward it like a plant turning toward light. That's not plot, that's poetry. What makes this scene work emotionally isn't anything dramatic. There's no confession, no touch, no even a glance between them that would qualify as romantic in any traditional sense. She's standing behind him the entire time, playing the timid companion, and he's conducting a political negotiation. But the subtext is screaming. And then the drunkard comes at her and she instinctively shrinks behind Ji Junjiao. Not because she needs protection—she could snap his wrist in half—but because this is the position she's been practicing for however long. The question is: at what point does the performance become the truth? The most emotionally charged moment is actually the silent one. Ji Junjiao saying "I'll take you home afterward" with that gentle tone—the one he doesn't use with anyone else. He could have left her outside. He could have told her to wait in the car. But he offered to personally escort her home, as if her safety matters to him beyond the political utility of having an ally who knows his secrets. I'm not crying, you're crying.
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The atmosphere in this auction house is absolutely electric. Wanwu Pavilion isn't just some fancy venue—it's the largest in all of Yaoyun, and the text makes that clear through the details. The folding screens dividing seats, the attendants calling bids, the row of masks available at the entrance. Everyone's hiding their identity because the lots are too dangerous to be associated with openly. That single detail tells you everything about the political tension in this world. But the scene that really gets me is the moment Haiyan—the jade thumb ring—is revealed. The auctioneer describes it with such theatrical flair, talking about the Chengping Army, the three hundred thousand soldiers, the tiger tally hidden inside a piece of jade. And there, in the lamplight, this translucent ring with a faint trace of blood inside it. Qin Buwen can't breathe. The reader can't breathe. The setting itself becomes a character, this opulent space where wealth and power and death all collide. I also love how the physical layout matters. Qin Buwen sits behind a screen, partially hidden. Yan Tang sits directly in front of Ji Junjiao across the aisle. The spatial relationships mirror the power dynamics perfectly. You can feel the tension radiating across that broad aisle between them.
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Can we talk about how the author builds atmosphere without ever stopping to explain the world? Like, you just absorb it. The scene where Qin Buwen walks into Ji Junjiao's study and the air is thick with the smell of ink—so strong it overpowers the incense burning nearby—that's the kind of detail that makes you feel like you're standing in that room. You can practically smell the old paper and the vermilion brush ink. And then there's the contrast between the cold, orderly space of the Grand Secretary's office and the bustling Chang'an street where she sets up her calligraphy stall. One is all stillness and power, the other is noise and survival. The author doesn't need to tell you this is a world of strict hierarchies—you feel it in the way Ji Junjiao sits perfectly upright behind his desk, marking account books with a vermilion brush like it's a weapon. The teahouse mention is tiny but it does so much work. Just one line—"I overheard someone talking at a teahouse"—and suddenly you know this is a world where information flows through public spaces, where a veiled stranger can plant a rumor and set events in motion. That's worldbuilding through implication, and it's brilliant. The auction at Wanwu Pavilion is dropped in almost casually, but it signals an entire underworld of commerce and secrecy operating beneath the surface of official court life. You don't need a chapter describing the auction house—you just know it exists, and that it matters. What really gets me is the Wenyuan Pavilion itself. It's never described in detail, but it feels like a living entity. A place that takes in refugees, that has its own internal politics, its own surveillance network. Qin Buwen notices the change in how many people are following her after her little performance. That's not just plot—it's a world that breathes and watches and responds. The bruises on her wrist against her "fair, jade-like skin"—that visual contrast is almost painful. The author paints it in two strokes and you're done for. It's not just description, it's emotional architecture.
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Okay so let me just say—this chapter is a masterclass in misdirection. You have Qin Buwen getting chased by an assassin who is literally BETTER than her, which immediately raises the stakes because we all know she's not some top-tier fighter. She pulls out Haiyan as a bargaining chip and bolts into a BROTHEL of all places. And then—plot twist—the Grand Secretary is already there. On official business. Sure, Ji Junjiao. Keep telling yourself that. The structure here is brilliant because it layers three separate tensions at once: the assassin chase, the political meeting upstairs, and the brothel girl bullying subplot. All three threads are running simultaneously and the author never lets you forget any of them. When Qin Buwen gets dragged into that side room and dumped with cold water, I literally gasped. Not because it's shocking—it's because it's so petty and human. These women aren't villains, they're just jealous coworkers. But the real plot gem is the Yun Heyue confrontation at the start. "Miss A'Jin. May our cooperation be fruitful." And then immediately after: "Don't lie to me. Otherwise I'll be heartbroken~" This woman plays both sweet and deadly in the same breath and I am HERE for it. The fact that she's negotiating with the guy who sent Zhang Fu to test her while simultaneously threatening him? Chef's kiss. The only thing I'd question is whether the assassin being better than Qin Buwen feels earned or convenient. But then again, that's the point—she's out of her depth and has to rely on wits instead of force. Which leads perfectly into her using the brothel as a shield and then accidentally walking into Ji Junjiao's secret meeting. Classic chain-reaction plotting.
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