Li Mingchao transmigrated into a book and was bound to a “Substitute System.”

The system said: “Host! Congratulations on obtaining these identities: ‘Fake Crown Prince, the Emperor’s most beloved baby,’ ‘Fake Ling’an Wang, the ultimate heartthrob,’ and ‘Fake White Moonlight, the only one in everyone’s hearts’…”

Li Mingchao thought: Great, so basically, I’m just a placeholder for everyone, right?

The system tried to motivate him: “As long as your identity isn’t exposed and you survive for ten years, you can clear the mission and officially ascend the throne as Emperor!”

So, Li Mingchao worked diligently as the Crown Prince for ten years. He acted so well that by the end, even the people who used to suspect him believed he truly was Ling’an Wang.

But the secret of being a substitute was eventually discovered. On the day Li Mingchao ascended the throne, before his dragon robe could even get warm, it was forcibly stripped off him.

Blood splattered the golden hall, and Li Mingchao felt both wronged and helpless. Besides, he wasn’t even crying himself—so why was the person killing him crying?

The system managed to get him a chance at rebirth. After being reborn, Li Mingchao just wanted to return to a peaceful life. However, because of his face, he was captured again and sent to the palace.

He heard the palace servants call him—”The new male concubine.”

Li Mingchao’s pupils shook in shock.

Fine, being a male concubine is still better than being a substitute Crown Prince; at least he wouldn’t get a sword through the heart again. He was quickly delivered to his “husband’s” side.

But when he heard that familiar voice, Li Mingchao panicked.

Wait, whose male concubine am I?

Title: A Guide on what to do when you are reborn as the male concubine of your own (fake) younger brother and end up becoming a substitute for your old self.

In the twenty-sixth year of the Chongzhou era, the sixth prince, Li Fang, executed the fake Crown Prince. He stepped over the blood-stained stairs to sit on the dragon throne.

That day, snow fell over the capital for a full day and night.

The officials welcomed the real Ling’an Wang back to the palace, cursing the substitute’s worthlessness and wishing they could tear him into a thousand pieces. Li Fang, in particular, hated that substitute to the bone. How could a lowly placeholder dare to occupy his brother’s position?

To steal the throne, that person had put on a gentle act—nursing Li Fang when he was sick, staying with him during thunderstorms… Even after death, he haunted Li Fang’s nightmares every single night. He was the reason Li Fang never had a moment of peace.

Li Fang hated him so much he wanted to drag him out of hell just to kill him again.

In his dreams, he always returned to a summer night in the twenty-fourth year of Chongzhou. He lay under the same covers as Li Mingchao, unable to resist reaching out to touch those soft, tender lips, which carried the gentle, warm scent of white ginger flowers.

That night, Li Fang smashed everything in the Palace of Mental Cultivation and ordered the coffin to be opened. He had to kill Li Mingchao one more time.

But the coffin was empty.

That new male concubine who looked like Li Mingchao was timid and humble; he couldn’t compare to the original in the slightest.

And yet, when he smiled, he looked exactly like him.

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