Song Lihua opened her eyes weakly. She tried to sit up, but her stomach churned and her vision spun.
Where… was she?
Voices reached her ears. Blinking, she saw an olive-skinned woman in her early thirties smiling brightly at her.
"Your Highness, you're awake!" the woman exclaimed. Relief practically oozed from her expression.
Song Lihua's head spun faster. Your… what? She glanced around. The carriage was wooden, cramped, and definitely medieval-European in style.
Memories came rushing back.
The poisoned wine. Her best friend's smile. The betrayal. The vow for revenge.
And yet here she was… in someone else's body, in a world that hadn't seen the 21st century in a thousand years.
The body she now occupied belonged to Yivanna Ashford, a princess whose life had been… less than ideal. Her mother, from a lower noble class, had been murdered by the king's favored wife. Her father? A distant, indifferent man who clearly didn't care that his daughter had just lost her mother.
When a neighboring kingdom's king had requested her hand in marriage, her father had shipped her off immediately. And that's when Yivanna discovered the real nightmare.
Her husband, Conrad Dunford, already had three wives. She was meant to be the fourth concubine. Ruthless, arrogant, and perverted, he had tried repeatedly to claim her. Yivanna had fought back in every way imaginable: dirt rubbed on her face, mud smeared over her clothes, even a pouch of horse dung she carried around like some medieval tactical weapon.
It worked… eventually. The other wives, who despised her, conspired with her husband to ignore her entirely.
Until the main wife framed her for theft and had her poisoned before banishing her to a barren wasteland called Elondria. Conrad had announced that the land would no longer belong to the empire of Avalor, cutting off any chance of help.
Sigh.
And now she, Song Lihua, had transmigrated into this mess of a life.
How was she supposed to get revenge on her ex-best friend when the woman wasn't even in this timeline?
"W…water…" Yivanna croaked. Her throat burned as if sandpaper had been installed in her mouth.
"Oh! Right, right!" the woman nodded frantically—then froze. There was no water in the carriage.
Perfect. Medieval luxury strikes again.
"Keagan! The princess is awake!" the woman shouted.
The carriage jolted to a stop so violently that Yivanna felt her intestines try to escape.
"Are you kidding me?" she groaned. How is anyone supposed to survive this ride?
The door swung open, letting in the chilly wind—and a man stepped inside.
A handsome man.
Damn.
The boy had brown hair, green eyes, and olive-toned skin. He looked no older than seventeen or eighteen.
"Your Highness, it's good you're awake," he said in a rich, velvet voice that made Yivanna almost forget she was exiled—and maybe briefly swoon.
"Keagan, the princess needs water!" Nanny Dina called again. Yivanna recognized her—her wet nurse and probably the only woman who had genuinely cared for her after her mother's death.
Keagan nodded and turned to another boy, who ran off and soon returned with a wooden cup of water.
"Here, Your Highness," Keagan said, handing it to Nanny Dina, who bent down to feed her.
Yivanna's hands moved before she could think. "Wait," she said.
Both looked at her in confusion.
How was she supposed to drink from a wooden cup? Even in Yivanna's previous life, it had been ages since she'd seen anything less advanced than a metal goblet—let alone a plastic cup. And what about germs? Tiny organisms? Bacteria lurking in every corner of that water?
"Your Highness, is there a problem?" Nanny Dina asked, worried.
"No," Yivanna said, taking a deep breath and forcing herself to open her mouth. She swallowed a big gulp. The aftertaste was strange—like wet wood—but at least her throat was no longer on fire.
"Good. Do you still need more, Your Highness?" Nanny Dina asked.
Yivanna shook her head immediately. Then her stomach grumbled. Great. Modern digestion in medieval cuisine. Perfect.
"Nanny… I'm hungry," Yivanna admitted, weakly holding her stomach.
"No problem, I'll prepare something for you to eat," Nanny Dina said cheerfully, looking genuinely relieved. She had no idea her charge had been poisoned.
"Keagan, keep guard over the princess while I go prepare food," Nanny Dina instructed as she climbed down from the carriage.
Yivanna scrutinized the serious-faced boy. From the memories she now possessed, she realized Keagan had been the son of her mother's personal guard. After his father died, he trained as a knight to protect Yivanna and her mother—but her mother had been murdered, too. Still, Keagan had followed her faithfully to Avalor, and even after she was banished, he remained by her side.
Loyal guard? In modern terms, he'd probably be a model boyfriend.
Yivanna looked around, taking in the barren, windswept landscape of Elondria. This was her new home. Medieval life was going to be… fun.
Then a voice suddenly rang in her head:
Ding! Installing Omnitech Civilization System.
Host detected… Initiating binding in 3… 2… 1…
Congratulations, Yivanna Ashford, on being chosen as one of the pioneers of civilization.
Yivanna blinked. Pioneers of civilization?
She rubbed her temples. Well, this just got interesting.
"What… are you?" Yivanna asked inwardly, careful not to speak aloud. Talking to herself could easily get her accused of witchcraft—medieval Europe was ridiculously paranoid.
And don't think that because I'm Chinese, I haven't heard the horror stories about this place…
"Hello, Host. I am the Omnitech Civilization System. My mission is to aid hosts in bringing civilization to barren lands. You… Yivanna Ashford… have been chosen as a host," the system intoned, cold, distant, and completely emotionless.
"I… don't remember volunteering for this," Yivanna said, mentally rolling her eyes.
"You don't have to volunteer. As I said, you were chosen," the system replied, its tone annoyingly familiar.
"What if I don't want to do it?" she asked.
"Then your soul will be obliterated. We are already bound. Besides, if we work together to achieve civilization, you will also benefit. I doubt you understand the severity of the hygiene issues here… trust me, honey. You do not want to know," the system added.
It clicked.
You sound exactly like me.
"Yes," the system continued, "when binding with a host, I emulate your attitude. So, if I sound rude… that is entirely your fault."
Yivanna scoffed. Fair enough.
She had to admit: Conrad's decision to make her ruler of Elondria was laughable. Medieval women weren't supposed to wield power—and yet here she was, a "queen" in exile, about to be left to die.
"Fine," she said. "But first, you need to get rid of the poison in my body."
"Host, that is not my expertise. I am an omnipotent technology system, not your personal doctor," it replied.
Yivanna clenched her fists inwardly. This is exactly how my clients used to feel when I refused their "easy wins."
"True. But if we're supposed to achieve civilization, I need to survive first. Heal me, or I die… and we both fail," she said, her voice persuasive—habits die hard.
"Fine. I'll heal you," the system said. A glint flashed in Yivanna's eyes.
A cooling sensation flowed through her body. Weakness, dizziness, and poison-induced nausea vanished.
"Finally," she muttered, opening her eyes just as Keagan peeked in.
Nanny Dina appeared, carrying a wooden plate of… what looked suspiciously like soup.
"Your Highness, the food is ready," she said, stepping toward the carriage.
Yivanna hopped down instead.
"Your Highness?" Nanny Dina gasped. Keagan rushed forward, ready to assist.
"I'm fine. I'll eat outside," Yivanna said, taking the bowl. They led her to an open area where most of the guards and carriages were gathered. At her approach, everyone stood and bowed.
Yivanna mentally counted: five hundred knights, one hundred maids, and a single healer. For comparison, most royals would have ten thousand guards. And Conrad gave me… this? Probably the worst graduates of the knight academy, too.
She settled on a log beside Nanny Dina, while Keagan remained a short distance away, vigilant.
Just as she lifted the spoon, she noticed the sky darkening.
Wait… System, aren't we on Earth? she asked, warily.
"Correct, Host. Took you a while to figure that out," the system replied.
Yivanna wasn't listening. Her mind screamed internally, horrified at the alien skies above. Medieval Europe was already weird—but this? This was next-level terrifying.