The Empress And The General: A Modern Reunion - Chapter 1

Chapter 1: The Empress Transmigrates

Ever since G-City successfully transitioned into summer, the temperature every afternoon lingered in the mid-thirties (Celsius). The sun was so fierce that the asphalt roads seemed to emit smoke.

The auditions for Dreaming of Autumn’s Peak were in full swing. Inside the waiting room, the air conditioning was on, but with dozens of people crowded together, the heat remained stifling. They were split into small groups of twos and threes, chatting and laughing; some sat alone, reading through materials, while others simply stared into space.

Among the latter was Yun Ni.

On the surface, Yun Ni remained calm, but a tempest was raging in her heart. Everything happening here violated her very understanding of reality.

Not long ago, she was a monarch worshipped by tens of thousands. She had led her army to the front lines, only to be ambushed after a decisive victory. She died shortly after from an incurable poison.

When she opened her eyes, she found herself in this strange place. A flood of memories that didn’t belong to her—but to this body—rushed into her mind. Only then did she realize she had been resurrected in a new world.

The owner of this body shared her name, Yun Ni, but they shared very different fates.

In her past life, Yun Ni’s mother was a lowly palace maid. To fulfill her mother’s ambitions, Yun Ni grew up disguised as a man. She eventually cleared all obstacles to ascend the throne and earn the people’s devotion.

The original owner of this body, however, lost her parents at a young age and lived with her grandparents. After they passed away, she was scouted by a talent agent because of her extraordinary beauty and entered the entertainment industry. Her very first role was as the female lead.

Normally, such a high starting point would have allowed her to soar if she had grabbed the opportunity. Unfortunately, the original Yun Ni’s acting was poor. She was completely overshadowed by another actress in the drama. When the show aired, she gained very few true fans but a massive surge of “anti-fans” (haters).

She filmed two more shows after that, but both flopped. With a track record like that, no director dared to use her. Her company abandoned her, and for over a year, she was given zero resources. Finally, just to put food on the table, she had to start taking “extra” (background) roles.

A few days ago, her manager suddenly notified her of an opportunity to make a comeback. The original Yun Ni spent several days and nights preparing without sleep. She died of sudden exhaustion while waiting for this very audition, allowing the Empress to wake up in her shell.

After a while, the door to the audition room pushed open. Two people walked out: a young girl with red, teary eyes, and an older woman holding a check-sheet. The woman glanced down: “Next, Yun Ni.”

Lost in thought, the girl didn’t hear her. It was the beauty sitting next to her who noticed the name on her resume and nudged her. “Miss Yun.”

Yun Ni snapped back to reality. “What… is it?”

Her voice was crisp, but her phrasing was awkward, as if she were unaccustomed to the language. Her tone was deliberately archaic and strange.

Tao Ningchu thought the accent was odd but dismissed it as a local dialect, never imagining that the person inside the body had been swapped in a matter of moments. “It’s your turn to audition. Hurry up and go in.”

With the memories integrated, Yun Ni knew what she had to do, but she didn’t quite understand the logistics. “To where?”

She didn’t distinguish between high or low professions, nor did she look down on the original owner’s career despite her own former status. She figured that since she had taken this body, she should at least repay the favor by winning this role.

Her mother had been a maid who spent her life acting virtuous and gentle to climb the ranks. Yun Ni herself had survived the cracks of palace life by pretending for half her life. Playing a palace maid now felt like something she could do with her eyes closed.

Tao Ningchu pointed her in the right direction.

Yun Ni looked over and saw a woman at the door calling out, “Yun Ni? Are you here?”

Yun Ni withdrew her gaze, rubbed her head, and stood up. She whispered a soft “Thank you.” Having merged some memories, this “thank you” sounded much more natural.

Tao Ningchu waved her off. “Go on, hurry up.”

Yun Ni glanced at the name tag on the other woman’s chest, matched it with her memories, and read the name aloud somewhat haltingly: “Tao Ningchu.”

“A drop of kindness shall be repaid in full in the future,” Yun Ni dropped this line before walking toward the woman calling her name.

Why does she talk like she’s in a period drama? Tao Ningchu muttered to herself, but she didn’t overthink it. She lowered her head to look at her script, only to realize she was holding it upside down out of nervousness. She quickly flipped it over.

As soon as Yun Ni arrived, the woman checking names gave her a sour look. “Yun Ni?”

“Yes.” Yun Ni lowered her eyes, apologizing before the woman could scold her. “I was reading the script and didn’t hear my name. I am truly sorry.”

Her oval face was no larger than a palm, and her “peach blossom” eyes were half-cast, making her look incredibly gentle and affectionate. The woman could only see a row of long, upturned lashes trembling slightly like small fans. Lower down, her thin lips were naturally red without makeup, slightly pursed in an upward curve. Her features were so exquisite that one couldn’t find a single flaw; even in the beauty-saturated entertainment industry, she stood out remarkably.

With such a good attitude and such a face, the woman couldn’t bring herself to say anything harsh. She stiffly replied, “Pay better attention next time.”

“Thank you.” Yun Ni smiled at her, bypassed her, and pushed open the door.

A blast of cold air hit her as she entered—a stark contrast to the parched heat outside. The room was large but occupied by only four people, with one empty seat. Each person sat behind a wooden desk.

Yun Ni took in the surroundings with a casual glance, walked steadily to the center, and bowed to the group. A faint smile graced her face. “Greetings, teachers.”

Most actors who came in for interviews were nervous. Her calm and composed demeanor piqued the interviewers’ interest.

Zhou Sheng, the director of Dreaming of Autumn’s Peak, glanced down at Yun Ni’s resume and chuckled. Closing the folder, he looked at the woman standing tall and straight. “Which role are you auditioning for?”

Shusheng.

Dreaming of Autumn’s Peak was a fictional transmigration drama. It told the story of an ordinary college student, Xun Ning, who falls into a coma after a car accident. Her soul travels to a country called Shengqiushan, where she helps the nation through a crisis before bringing her “True One” back to the modern world.

The character “Shusheng” was the personal maid of Princess Dong’er of the rival Winter Kingdom. Shusheng had entered the palace as a child and was saved by Princess Dong’er from a bullying senior maid. She was fiercely loyal to the Princess; she eventually caused Xun Ning to miscarry on the Princess’s behalf and died taking a sword meant for her mistress.

If it were the Empress herself, she wouldn’t be interested in such a minor character; she would aim for a heavy-weight role like Princess Dong’er. But this was the original owner’s wish, and she didn’t want to change it. She viewed it as a way to thank her for this new life.

Zhou Sheng blinked, flipped through his character list, and finally found the maid who only appeared two or three times. He looked up. “Are you sure you want to audition for the personal maid of Princess Dong’er?”

“Yes.”

Zhou Sheng didn’t press further. He closed the script. “Choose a scene yourself.”

Yun Ni recalled the script and lines the original owner had memorized for so long. The expression on her face gradually shifted. Her resolute gaze faded, replaced by humility and reverence.

“Princess, Xun Ning is merely a commoner, whereas you are a dignified Princess and the General’s fiancée as decreed by His Majesty. Why must you distress yourself and argue with the General over her?” Yun Ni slightly bent her knees, her hands balled into fists, lightly tapping the air as if she were massaging someone’s back.

Zhou Sheng raised an eyebrow. He hadn’t expected her to use “physical acting” without props, and her grasp of the tone and voice was excellent.

In the next second, a different voice suddenly rang out—filled with grief and indignation, even shifting in pitch.

“As long as she is there, the General’s eyes will always be glued to her! He doesn’t even acknowledge my existence! How can I be satisfied with that?”

Zhou Sheng and the others were startled. They instinctively looked over, only to see Yun Ni’s lips move as she switched back to the maid’s voice. Her hands stopped, and she called out with concern, “Princess…”

“I am weary. You may leave.” This time, Zhou Sheng saw it clearly. It was indeed Yun Ni’s voice, but she had skillfully altered the pitch and tone for the two different characters.

“Your servant obeys.”

Yun Ni withdrew her hands, stood up, and mimicked the motion of pulling down a “silk curtain.”

Zhou Sheng thought it was over and was about to signal her, but then he saw Yun Ni’s expression change again. First came worry, then a flash of hesitation, followed by a glint of murderous intent in her eyes once her mind was made up. Finally, she returned to a state of calm and slowly backed away.

Recalling that one second of murderous intent, Zhou Sheng felt as if someone had gripped his throat. He couldn’t move. When he snapped out of it, he was covered in a cold sweat.

He began to clap, and the others followed suit. Among the many people who had auditioned, Yun Ni’s acting was already considered outstanding. Very few people could pull an audience into the “state” like she just did.

“A very good performance,” Zhou Sheng praised. But then, the person beside him nudged him. He frowned, glanced at Yun Ni, and let out a regretful sigh. “Go home and wait for the notification.”

Yun Ni was a shrewd woman; she didn’t miss the instantaneous change in his expression. She became thoughtful.

“Thank you, teacher.”

She bowed, gave a timid smile, and turned to leave. She faintly heard a whisper behind her: “What a pity.”

Yun Ni walked out, smiled at the woman checking names, and returned to the chairs. She found that the girl from earlier was gone and someone else was in her seat. After a quick look around and finding no one, Yun Ni turned to leave.

Following her memory to the elevator, she looked at the two triangular buttons. She carefully reached out and pressed the bottom one. Despite having the memories, this was her first time trying it, and she found it quite novel.

After a moment, the red number above changed to “6.”

Ding—

Yun Ni watched the doors open. She cautiously stepped inside, testing the floor with her foot to make sure she wouldn’t fall through before walking in. According to memory, she had to press a button inside. She tilted her head and saw that the number “1” was already red, so she pulled her hand back.

“It’s not like you haven’t taken an elevator before. Are you acting like this to get my attention?”

Yun Ni turned around. She saw a woman in a white suit leaning against the corner. The woman was tall, with her hands in her pockets. Looking up, Yun Ni saw that her features were also extraordinary. Her “phoenix eyes” looked sharp and piercing, her thin lips were pressed tight, and her entire being exuded the aura of someone in power.

Yun Ni searched her memories and immediately frowned.

Of all the luck—it was Lin Zijin, the CEO of the original owner’s company. She was also the woman the original owner had once drunkenly and clumsily confessed to.

Lin Zijin saw the number reach “3.” She straightened up and walked out. As she passed Yun Ni, she said softly:

“Don’t do anything pointless. I have no interest in you. This is my final warning. If there is a next time, you won’t have to appear before me ever again.”

As the CEO of Shengshadow Entertainment, Lin Zijin held the futures of countless artists in her hands. If she truly wanted to ruin Yun Ni, it would be effortless.

Yun Ni’s brow twitched. She wasn’t one to bow and scrape, so she clarified: “I have no improper thoughts about you.”

Even if there were any, they belonged to the previous owner. This is my life now.

Lin Zijin didn’t believe her. She let out a mocking sneer and walked away with her long legs.

The elevator closed. Yun Ni leaned against the railing, feeling a faint ache in her head. Not only did the previous owner have no acting skills, but she had also enraged her boss. It seemed she had truly inherited a mess.

Exiting the elevator, she felt a vibration in her pocket. She pulled out a device to see a call from her manager. The manager was Zhang Lingyu, the one with the worst resources in the company—bar none. She only managed one artist: Yun Ni.

In the past, Zhang Lingyu looked down on the original owner. She had even suggested the girl sell her beauty and “cling to a powerful thigh” to get resources. When the girl refused, the manager stopped giving her assignments to pressure her.

A few days ago, Zhang Lingyu suddenly contacted her about this audition, claiming she had used her connections to get the opportunity and told her to seize it. The original owner had been grateful, but the Empress Yun Ni, who was used to palace intrigue, sensed that something was amiss.

After a moment’s thought, she didn’t answer or hang up. She silenced the phone and put it back in her pocket. However, as she walked out the main door, she saw Zhang Lingyu standing there, irritably pressing her phone.

Yun Ni just wanted to go home and sort out her thoughts. She glanced at the woman and tried to walk past, but after two steps, a voice roared behind her: “Yun Ni!”

She turned around to see Zhang Lingyu stomping toward her in a rage.