The penniless Shen Jiao couldn't help but mutter to herself: "It's so easy to be rich and willful."

Strangely enough, it was quiet all the way, but when we got close to the hall where the banquet was to be held, we didn't hear a single beat of drums or music. It didn't feel like a peaceful and prosperous place at all. Instead, it had a kind of silence and terror like that of going to the underworld.

Shen Jiao got goosebumps all over her body.

Help! Do we really have to dance in this atmosphere? There's a very high chance she'll move her arms and legs in unison. If she makes a mistake, will she be the first one eliminated?

The closer she got to the hall, the smaller Shen Jiao's steps became. From a distance, she looked like a gaudy snail.

The thought of meeting the legendary madman Emperor Yan soon made her unable to stop her mind from wandering.

What if—she meant—the Emperor Yan suddenly fell ill, wouldn't he just drag them out and behead them without a word? Even if he beheaded them, what if the Emperor Yan took a fancy to their skin? Would he just peel it off and use it as a lantern? Would they use anesthesia if they peeled it off?

Also, she has already thrown away the dagger used to assassinate him. When the little eunuch signals to her with his eyes, is it better to pretend not to recognize him or pretend not to see him?

Most importantly, if she's going to try anything as a last resort, does the Emperor of Yan prefer honey water or wine?

Sigh, life is full of choices, even more hair-draining than taking an exam.

Shen Jiao buried her head in deep thought, unaware that the little maid leading the way beside her was already sweating profusely.

She wasn't afraid of death, but she cherished her life. It was a real pity to die so inexplicably, since she had only one chance to live.

Shen Jiao reluctantly touched her face, wondering if she would still be this beautiful when she was reincarnated.