Empress, Can I? [Transmigration + GL] - Chapter 3

Xuan Jingchi strolled through the imperial garden, walking leisurely along the lakeshore. A large entourage of palace attendants had tried to follow her, but she dismissed them all with a single command.

It had to be said—the original host’s tyrannical and domineering persona was quite useful.

With just one word from her, they all scattered far away.

Xuan Jingchi knew that her unusual behavior the previous night in the empress’s palace, her halting speech during the morning court session, and even her earlier conversation with the young eunuch Liu Jili were all signs that this Xuan Jingchi was a little different.

But if she changed too abruptly, it might arouse suspicion.

She needed an opportunity—a chance to reinvent herself.

Xuan Jingchi pondered, recalling the transmigration novels she had read. In those stories, the original hosts either fell seriously ill or suffered an accident…

Should she stage an accident?

Looking at the shimmering surface of the lake, an idea struck her—why not fake drowning?

She glanced at the distant figures of the palace maids, eunuchs, and guards. If she “accidentally” fell into the water, they would surely come to her rescue. Besides, the water near the shore shouldn’t be deep enough to drown her.

When the time came, she could pretend to be saved by them, then claim to have had an epiphany after facing death, vowing to turn over a new leaf.

That would make everything seem perfectly reasonable.

The more she thought about it, the more brilliant the plan seemed.

But as she approached the lakeshore, facing the vast expanse of spring water and the chilly wind brushing against her face, Xuan Jingchi—who couldn’t swim—hesitated.

The water must be freezing this time of year.

What if I fall in and they don’t notice?

What if they come too late, and I end up a vegetable?

“Tsk…” Xuan Jingchi sucked in a sharp breath and unconsciously took a step back.

This black dragon robe with golden embroidery and red lapels was ridiculously heavy and cumbersome, especially the long hem.

She had nearly tripped over it several times already.

This time, she finally succeeded—stepping squarely on the hem and sending herself stumbling sideways.

Before she could even scream “Help!” she plunged headfirst into the icy waters of early February.

“Your Majesty, someone has fallen into the water!” a young palace maid beside the Empress cried out in alarm.

Xiao Yueli turned to look and indeed saw a dark shadow on the water’s surface.

“Help!” Xuan Jingchi hadn’t expected the pond to be so deep—or so cold!

Fear made her forget the chill, and the instinct to survive drove her to cry out. But after just one shout, she swallowed a mouthful of water.

“Ugh…” The water was freezing!

“Help! Ugh… help! Ugh…”

“It’s the Emperor!”

The young maid recognized the voice and was about to rush over to help.

Unexpectedly, a slender, pale hand gently tugged at her sleeve.

“Your Majesty?” The maid paused, startled as she looked at the Empress, her heart trembling.

Xiao Yueli turned away, her icy voice carrying no warmth as she spoke from behind, “Xiao Rong, we saw nothing.”

“But…”

Xiao Rong glanced once more at the figure flailing desperately in the lake before finally turning away. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

Just then, Xiao Yueli heard a terrified cry for help, “Mama! Save me! Mama, Mama…”

The voice was laced with unmistakable sobs.

It sounded exactly like a young child, overwhelmed by fear and helplessness, instinctively calling out for her mother in desperation.

Each tearful cry of “Mama, save me!” struck Xiao Yueli’s heart like a hammer, blow after blow.

Xiao Yueli hesitated, then finally turned her head slightly and said, “Go save her.”

“Yes!”

Xiao Rong immediately turned and ran toward the direction of the voice, diving into the lake.

…

Xuan Jingchi trembled uncontrollably, even wrapped in a thick woolen blanket.

At that moment earlier, she had been on the brink of death.

Facing life and death, she had truly understood.

She wanted to go home, to see her mother, to feel her mother’s embrace and comfort.

Not like this—trapped in a strange world, surrounded by strangers, in an unfamiliar body.

She had no family, no friends here.

“Your Majesty, this is the warming tonic prescribed by the imperial physician.”

Warm Fragrance respectfully presented a bowl of medicine, only to be surprised to find the Empress’s eyes reddened, as if she had just been crying.

“Your Majesty?”

Being watched by Nuanxiang, Xuan Jingchi felt a bit embarrassed—she had never shed tears in front of others before.

She sniffled and instinctively reached for a tissue.

But how could there be tissues in this era?

Yet, she saw Nuanxiang handing her a soft silk handkerchief instead.

A warmth spread through Xuan Jingchi’s heart as she took the handkerchief and said, “Thank you!”

To her surprise, Nuanxiang immediately knelt in fright, exclaiming, “This servant dares not!”

Xuan Jingchi chuckled and shook her head. “Rise.”

With that, she picked up the bowl of medicine and took a sip. It was bitter, but not unbearably so. She tilted her head back and drank the entire bowl in one go.

“Who saved me?”

Xuan Jingchi knew someone had rescued her. Amid the chaos, she had caught sight of a young palace maid, drenched, hurrying away.

“It was Lady Xiaorong, Her Majesty the Empress’s attendant,” Chenxiang replied.

The Empress?

Xuan Jingchi was taken aback, genuinely surprised.

The image of Empress Xiao Yueli’s breathtaking beauty—like a cold, luminous moon—flashed before her eyes.

She couldn’t help but recall their first encounter the previous night. When the Empress had stared at her, her eyes burned with undisguised fury and hatred.

Someone who hated me so much… actually saved me?

“I must thank her. Thank the Empress.”

Chenxiang asked, “Does Your Majesty wish to reward Lady Xiaorong?”

Xuan Jingchi nodded. “Of course.” But she wasn’t sure how rewards were typically given, so she turned and asked, “How have I rewarded people in the past?”

Chenxiang replied, “Your Majesty, the most recent instance was when Matron Zhou took good care of your rabbit. She was rewarded with an agate hairpin.”

A smile crossed Xuan Jingchi’s face as she realized—she was the emperor, ruler of all under heaven. Giving away a hairpin was nothing.

“What treasures do I have?”

Chenxiang froze, seemingly unprepared for such a question, and quickly bowed. “Your Majesty, all palace treasures are stored in the imperial vault. This servant will immediately request an inventory from the vault steward for Your Majesty’s review.”

“No need,” Xuan Jingchi said. “I’ll visit the vault myself tomorrow and pick one or two items.”

“As you command!” Chenxiang bowed, hesitating briefly before finally asking, “Your Majesty, these people failed in their duty to protect you. How does Your Majesty wish to punish them?”

Xuan Jingchi glanced outside the hall, where a sea of palace maids, eunuchs, and guards knelt in terrified silence, trembling, knowing they deserved punishment and not daring to beg for mercy.

To everyone’s astonishment, Xuan Jingchi replied nonchalantly, “Let them all return. I was the one who ordered them to keep their distance. The fault isn’t theirs, and I won’t punish them.”

This response left not only Chenxiang but also Nuanxiang and the other maids in the room utterly stunned.

Chenxiang went out to relay the order. Upon hearing it, the crowd was incredulous, feeling as though they had narrowly escaped disaster, and their relief was overwhelming.

“Thank you, Your Majesty! Thank you, Your Majesty…”

No sooner had the crowd dispersed than an announcement came from the doorway: “The Grand Princess has arrived.”

Xuan Jingchi was startled, her mind flooded with questions:

The Grand Princess? Who is she?

My sister? My aunt?

Why is she here?

Unable to help herself, Xuan Jingchi looked toward the entrance, where a young woman strode in. Dressed in lavish robes that suited her dignified bearing, every movement exuded noble grace.

Her steps were light and swift, and she soon reached Xuan Jingchi’s bedside.

Now, Xuan Jingchi could clearly see her face—another stunning beauty.

She bore a seventy percent resemblance to her own features, though lacking the peach blossom eyes that always seemed to flirtatiously beckon. There was a faint air of heroic vigor between her brows, appearing strategic and composed, far more proper than herself.

A born CEO, Xuan Jingchi concluded inwardly.

“Little sister, I heard you fell into the water! Are you alright? Are you feeling unwell anywhere? Let me see you!”

Just as Xuan Jingchi was about to throw off the blanket and get out of bed, the woman pulled her into an embrace, cupping her face to examine it repeatedly with eyes full of concern and affection. Without waiting for Xuan Jingchi to speak, she patted her head and hugged her tight again.

She calls me little sister, so she must be my elder sister.

Xuan Jingchi’s muffled voice came from within the embrace, “I’m fine, sister.”

Xuan Jingchi was practically overjoyed.

As an only child, she had always yearned for an older brother or sister who could stand up for her when she was bullied, someone before whom she could act cute and spoiled without reservation. How wonderful that would be!

Now that she’d gained such a beautiful and caring sister for free, Xuan Jingchi happily wrapped her arms around the woman’s waist, calling out “sister” in the softest, most endearing tones, clinging like a kitten unwilling to let go of its owner.

The elder princess’s waist stiffened momentarily when embraced, but soon relaxed.

Patting Xuan Jingchi’s back with a smile, she instead addressed Nuansiang and Chenxiang: “Has the imperial physician come? What was the diagnosis?”

Nuansiang and Chenxiang replied, “Your Highness, the physician has come. He said Her Majesty caught a chill and has already prescribed medicine, which was administered just now.”

The elder princess nodded, looking down at Xuan Jingchi clinging to her, feeling deeply moved.

This younger sister had always been spoiled and willful. While close in childhood, after their mother’s passing and with their father’s excessive indulgence, she’d grown increasingly unrestrained.

Her elder sister’s repeated admonishments had only widened the rift between them.

Later, when she blocked the younger sister from keeping male companions in the palace, the estrangement deepened further.

At most, the younger sister would reluctantly address her as “Imperial Sister” before lifting her chin and walking away without a glance.

Yet they were blood sisters after all. Despite the distance, upon hearing of the accident, the elder princess had rushed from her residence to see her.

Who could have imagined that after falling into water, her sister seemed a different person—the former arrogance and willfulness gone, replaced by docility and obedience, reverting to how she used to be, smiling with crescent eyes and asking for hugs upon seeing her.

Hearing her repeatedly call her “sister,” the Grand Princess showed a warm and gratified smile.

After experiencing life and death, her younger sister had finally become somewhat more sensible.