As she thought, Han Jinyue's mind began to drift as well.
Though she had not even entered the Dao yet, people loved nothing more than imagining the future. Only then could they find greater motivation.
As for wholly attaching herself to someone else, as a modern person, it was difficult for such thoughts to arise in her.
People of the present age, unless they had suffered enough vicious beatings, would more or less harbor the sentiments of a Long Aotian; women, meanwhile, would more or less entertain dreams of becoming a Feng Aotian.
Those who, after transmigrating and starting a rebellion, did not think of becoming an empress but instead dreamed of being an empress consort, a noble consort, or falling in love with princes—they had love on the brain. They were not normal.
If Han Jinyue had been love-brained, then in her circumstances, she would probably have been thinking about how to fight Zhang Huang'er for favor in the palace, stomp her viciously beneath her feet, and become the mother of the realm herself.
But she clearly was not. What she was thinking about now was whether, in the future, she could seize an opportunity to stab the Great General of Yingtian in the back and carve out land to become a king...
The more she thought, the more lost in reverie she became.
After all, although things had gotten off to a fine start at this point, and she had tempered a bit of cunning and mental fortitude, she had some—but not much.
Only Zhao Cheng felt that this world was far too real.
How could there be so many cases of someone merely shaking their mighty body once and winning everyone's heartfelt submission?
More people merely stayed beneath another for the time being because they had yet