“Smack!”

Aurora Whitmore was jolted awake by a vicious slap.

Her cheek burned like fire, and her ears rang so hard it felt like a swarm of bees had rushed into her skull.

She was Aurora Whitmore—once the Grand Princess of Great Zhou. At fourteen, she had governed in place of the throne. At sixteen, she had personally cut down a treacherous prime minister. At eighteen, she had pushed for poor scholars to enter officialdom, helped her young brother ascend the throne, opened imperial exams to women, built academies to raise talent, and scared a whole capital full of spoiled young nobles into behaving.

And now someone had the nerve to hit her?

Aurora’s brows snapped together, cold and sharp.

Seeing that stubborn look on her face, Mrs. Whitmore only got more furious. “Aurora Whitmore! You actually stole your sister’s birthday dress! Figures. A girl raised in the countryside would only do this kind of cheap, embarrassing crap!”

So loud.

What dress?

Aurora suddenly opened her eyes. The first thing she saw was the angry face of a middle-aged woman. At the same time, a flood of memories slammed into her mind. She froze for a second.

Wasn’t she supposed to be teaching at the imperial academy?

According to the original owner’s memories, she had crossed into a world two thousand years later and ended up in the body of this girl, who was also named Aurora Whitmore. She had originally been the true eldest daughter of the Whitmore family, but someone had deliberately switched her at the hospital. She had been left in the countryside for seventeen years, suffering through one miserable day after another.

Meanwhile, Celeste Whitmore, the fake heiress who had stolen her place, had grown up in the Whitmore family wrapped in love and luxury, living the good life from day one.

Half a year ago, the truth finally came out, and the Whitmore family brought Aurora back.

But her biological parents, her older brother Adrian Whitmore, and her younger brother Felix Whitmore had long since chosen Celeste in their hearts.

They couldn’t bear to let Celeste go, so they told outsiders Aurora was only the daughter of some distant relative staying with them. In this huge Whitmore house, she lived like a shadow no one wanted to acknowledge.

In half a month, it would be Celeste’s birthday banquet. The whole family had been happily buying her jewelry, dresses, and all kinds of expensive gifts, while completely ignoring Aurora, whose birthday was on the exact same day.

And today, the custom-made gown Mrs. Whitmore had spent a fortune preparing for Celeste suddenly went missing. In the end, it was “found” in Aurora’s room.

So naturally, they all decided Aurora had stolen it.

“Mom, please don’t be mad. You’ll make yourself sick,” Celeste said softly, slipping her arm around Mrs. Whitmore’s and acting all sweet and caring. “I think maybe my sister just liked the dress a little too much… It’s okay. I can give it to her.”

As she spoke, she turned to Aurora. Her tone was gentle on the surface, but underneath it was full of fake regret and blame. “But seriously, sis, if you liked it, you could’ve just told me. Why steal it? If word gets out, what will people think of our family? That’s so humiliating.”

“What would she know about shame?” Mrs. Whitmore snapped, still fuming. She jabbed a finger right at Aurora’s face. “She spent over a decade in the countryside—never learned music, chess, calligraphy, or painting, and clearly didn’t learn basic decency either! She only knows these sneaky little thief tricks! Honestly, bringing her back was the biggest mistake I ever made!”

Aurora Whitmore’s gaze moved slowly over the luxurious dress on the floor, then settled calmly on Celeste Whitmore. "Steal it?"

Smack!

Without the slightest hesitation, Aurora slapped Celeste hard across the face.

"How dare you. A fake who stole someone else’s place, not even fit to be compared to an illegitimate child, and you dare accuse the true daughter of stealing in public? Forget the fact that I didn’t take this dress—even if I had, you still wouldn’t have the right to say a word."

Celeste’s cheek swelled up almost at once. She was completely stunned.

Even Mrs. Whitmore froze.

Aurora didn’t give them a second to recover. Her cold eyes swept toward Mrs. Whitmore next. "And you—a lady of the house, yet this blind and foolish? Letting a counterfeit bully your own flesh and blood? Unable to tell right from wrong, black from white?"

"The birthday banquet is on the same day for both girls. You prepared something for a fake, but nothing for your real daughter. And after that, without even checking the facts, you smeared her name and called her a thief."

"Celeste’s room has servants going in and out every single day. A dress like this is watched by people specially assigned to it. How could one girl sneak in, take such a huge gown, and walk out without a sound? Bring the servants up here, question them properly, put some pressure on them, and the truth will come out sooner or later."

The servants all lowered their heads at once, guilt practically written across their faces.

Celeste felt like Aurora had gone insane.

She didn’t even care about the pain on her face anymore.

Just a second ago, Aurora had looked like an easy target. So how had she suddenly become this sharp-tongued?

And what was with all that "true daughter" and "lady of the house" stuff?

Anyone who didn’t know better would think she’d time-traveled from some ancient dynasty.

But the situation was clearly turning bad, and Celeste really was scared they might dig something up. She quickly bit her lip and said, "Mom... forget it. I’ll give the dress to my sister. She’s right. She’s your real daughter. This is all my fault. I don’t deserve such a beautiful dress..."

Mrs. Whitmore wasn’t stupid. She had climbed to her current position for a reason, and she had some brains. Looking at the servants’ shifty expressions, then at Celeste suddenly backing down and acting weak, she understood part of what was going on.

But in her eyes, even if Celeste had framed Aurora, it was just childish nonsense. Aurora, on the other hand, had outright hit someone. Then she saw Celeste standing there in tears, looking fragile and pitiful, and her heart ached immediately. "Don’t say nonsense! You are my real daughter!"

Then she glared at Aurora again. "And you! Was that really necessary? You actually hit her? Where are your manners? Figures—you were raised in the countryside. Apologize to Celeste. Right now."

Aurora Whitmore felt like her whole worldview had just been force-updated.

Back in her days as the eldest princess, most people around her had at least half a brain. It was honestly rare to run into someone this stupid.

And this woman was supposed to be the lady of the house? Please. Even the maids who served by Aurora’s side in the past had more sense than this.

"No sense of right or wrong, no clue who matters and who doesn’t, and hopeless to the core."

Aurora shook her head, completely done talking, and went straight upstairs.

"So stubborn!" Mrs. Whitmore stamped her foot behind her, nearly exploding on the spot. "No dinner for you tonight! Stay in your room and think about what you’ve done!"

Aurora didn’t slow down. She didn’t even bother turning her head.

She pushed open the door to the original owner’s room.

It was small, cramped, and worn down. To be honest, it probably wasn’t even as decent as a servant’s room.

Still, the strange little modern gadgets inside caught her eye.

Especially the lighting. It was so bright, so steady, so convenient. If Da Zhou had ever possessed craftsmanship like this, how many poor families could have lit their homes after dark? How many students from humble backgrounds wouldn’t have had to ruin their eyes studying by weak lamplight through the night?

Aurora sat on the edge of the bed and let out a faint breath, then shook her head.

And then there were those little troublemakers at the Imperial Academy. Without her there, who knew what kind of chaos they’d stir up.

That academy had been built by Aurora’s own hands. It didn’t just take in the children of officials. There were also students from poor families, women cast aside after divorce, even wandering martial artists...

She would never see them again.

But there was no point dwelling on that now.

Relying on the host’s remaining memories, Aurora opened the wardrobe. The moment she saw the dresses inside—light, slim, barely covering much—her brow lifted.

Well. The local customs here were pretty open.

And honestly? She liked that.

Da Zhou had been far more rigid. Women who appeared in public had to cover their faces and dress from head to toe without showing the slightest bit of skin. It was only after she helped her young brother ascend the throne that she abolished that ridiculous rule.

Women should dress beautifully. That was only natural.

Aurora picked up her pajamas and walked into the bathroom.

Her gaze landed on the thing above her head.

This... seemed to be called a bathroom heater?

She hesitated for a second, then slowly raised her hand and brushed it left—

Splash!

A sheet of water crashed straight down from above.

Someone was trying to set her up!

Almost on pure instinct, Aurora Whitmore launched herself upward. In one swift move, she stuck to the ceiling like an octopus, arms and legs spread wide, the whole scene wild enough to make anyone’s jaw drop.

A few seconds later.

She quietly climbed back down.

Good thing no one had seen that. If word got out, her lifetime of royal dignity would be cooked on the spot.

…

The next morning.

Aurora Whitmore got up at seven.

This body was still in senior year of high school. Since she was using it now, then fine—school it was.

Perfect timing too. She could take a look at what a school a thousand years later was actually like.

Celeste Whitmore was up as well. She had the car sent around for herself and deliberately left Aurora out of it. “Wasn’t she acting all tough yesterday? Then today she can get herself to school. Nobody is allowed to arrange a car for her.”

“Yes, Miss.”

Celeste leaned back in the rear seat, perfectly relaxed. Just picturing Aurora trudging to school on foot, looking miserable, made her want to laugh.

But how could Aurora possibly accept walking?

She had once been the Grand Princess. When she went out, it had always been carried sedans with eight bearers. Since when had she ever walked anywhere herself?

“Prepare my carriage.”

“The car’s already been taken by Miss Celeste,” the housekeeper said flatly, full of obvious brush-off energy. “There are no cars left in the house. If you want to go, you can walk.”

Aurora narrowed her eyes.

The Whitmore family was, at the very least, a respectable old-money household. How could there be no vehicles at all?

This was nothing more than a servant getting bold enough to bully his master.

Three minutes later.

The butler covered the three teeth he’d just lost, eyes watery, and respectfully pulled open the car door for Aurora Whitmore.

Aurora got in with a blank face, calm and commanding, her whole vibe screaming don’t mess with me.

Back in her previous life, everyone in the imperial palace had feared her like she was some living nightmare. If she could keep a whole court in line, how could she not deal with one rude servant?

Even the driver didn’t dare say a word. He quickly started the car.

Aurora hadn’t braced herself at all. Her whole body pitched forward, and her forehead smacked right into the back of the front seat.

"..."

She pressed a hand to her aching forehead, completely stunned.