Chapter 1: Wedding Night

Night deepened, a gentle breeze drifted through the air, and inside a bridal chamber of the Regent Prince’s mansion—

“Such a fine night and lovely scenery should not go to waste. I shall now send the Princess Consort on her way.”

A man’s low and pleasant yet icy voice rang in her ears. Jiang Huaiyue’s eyes widened in shock.

She looked up at the man before her. Dressed in red wedding robes, he stood tall and dignified. His brows were as finely drawn as ink paintings, eyes like stars, and a black mole on the bridge of his nose added a cool, ascetic allure. His beauty was striking, but beneath it lay an unspoken sharpness and authority.

If it weren’t for the wine cup in his hand, Jiang Huaiyue might have swooned at his looks.

But the current situation left no room for daydreams. Seeing him draw closer and knowing full well what was in the cup, her lips trembled slightly.

“Your Highness, I think life is pretty great. I’d rather not die, for now.”

She gave a flattering smile, though her heart was filled with despair.

Heavens above, if this was her fate, she might as well have died in that car crash.

Jiang Huaiyue had been in a traffic accident on the way to film a melodramatic short drama with her best friend. She thought she’d died for sure, but instead, she woke up inside the script.

The good news? She was the female lead.
The bad news? She was a cannon fodder among cannon fodder.

And the man before her? He was the story’s main villain: Pei Ji, the Regent Prince.

Born from humble beginnings, he had passed three successive imperial exams and was personally appointed as the top scholar by the late emperor. He earned many merits, joined the imperial cabinet, and rose to become Dayong’s youngest Grand Secretary, deeply favored by the emperor.

But his temperament was eccentric and ruthless, lacking the humility and courtesy expected of a civil official.

Before his death, the late emperor appointed him Regent Prince to assist the ten-year-old crown prince Jiang Jingchen.

After becoming a prince, he acted with even more impunity—anyone who defied him was summarily executed.

Eight years had passed since. The once-young crown prince had grown up and begun scheming for power. As the saying goes, “No man can snore beside the emperor’s bed.”

He had tried countless times to kill Pei Ji, all to no avail.

In the end, he used the excuse that Pei Ji had yet to marry and forced his own younger sister, Princess Yunhe, into marriage with him.

As for what happened next—everyone could guess.

On the wedding night, the princess obeyed her brother’s orders and drugged the ceremonial wine. It wasn’t poison, though—it was an aphrodisiac.

Jiang Jingchen wasn’t stupid. He knew Pei Ji wouldn’t be so easily tricked. But this was just to disgust him. If the plan worked, great; if not, it didn’t affect him either way.

And the reason the princess obeyed her brother so willingly was simple: she liked him.

That’s right—she had a crush on her own brother. In the script, the male lead was irresistibly charming. Any woman who saw him would inevitably fall for him. The princess was no exception.

Pei Ji chuckled coldly at Jiang Huaiyue’s words, the chill in his eyes deepening. He stepped forward and gripped her chin tightly.

“This is not up to you.”

With those words, he raised the cup in his other hand and poured the wine into her mouth.

Jiang Huaiyue’s eyes were filled with terror as she tried to push his hand away.

But the man’s strength was overwhelming—she had no way to resist. She shook her head furiously, trying to spill the wine onto the floor.

Pei Ji saw through her attempt. His phoenix-shaped eyes showed a trace of mockery—like an ant trying to shake a tree. Utterly delusional.

He tightened his grip, rendering her completely immobile. No matter how unwilling she was, the wine still made its way down her throat.

What little remained dripped from his hand onto her fair cheek and stained her red wedding dress.

After forcing the wine down her throat, Pei Ji released her as if casting away something worthless. Jiang Huaiyue collapsed onto the bed, coughing violently.

Her small face flushed red, and only one thought ran through her mind:

She was doomed!

The princess had used three times the normal dosage in that wine.

She immediately turned around and collapsed onto the ground, clutching Pei Ji’s robe with a pitiful expression. Her voice trembled as she pleaded, “Your Highness, there’s no poison in the wine. I admire you—how could I bear to harm you?”

The drama didn’t elaborate much on who Pei Ji was, only that he was eccentric, a madman.

Ling Yue, on the night of her forced marriage, had also been made to drink this wine. Afterward, Pei Ji threw her to the guards at the manor.

Later, he turned her into a “human swine”—gouged out her eyes and nose, threw her into a pit with snakes, insects, rats, and ants. She died in utter misery.

Pei Ji looked down at the person on the floor with cold indifference, eyes darkening with even greater killing intent.

“Oh? Is that so? Then what is the lady afraid of?”

He sat down slowly on the edge of the bed, pulling out a clean handkerchief to wipe his palm.

Jiang Huaiyue could feel a heat spreading through her body. With difficulty, she said, “I was worried Your Highness wouldn’t be willing to consummate the marriage, so I added an aphrodisiac to the wine. But I truly had no intention of harming you.”

This foolish girl—Ling Yue was being used from beginning to end by that man, and yet she still dared to offend Pei Ji. She must’ve thought her death wasn’t miserable enough.

Thinking of how Ling Yue ended up in the story, Jiang Huaiyue felt she was about to meet her ancestors soon too.

How was she supposed to survive this night?

Pei Ji’s eyes lifted slightly as he said cruelly, “Since that’s the case, this prince shall prepare more men for you.”

“No, please, Your Highness! I’m already your wife. How could I be with anyone else…” Jiang Huaiyue’s cheeks flushed, heat surging through her body. She couldn’t help but tug at her collar.

Pei Ji heard the word wife and suddenly leaned forward with a cold smirk. “Wife? You think you deserve that title?”

The abrupt closeness brought them within inches of each other. Jiang Huaiyue caught the chilly scent on him and felt her thoughts begin to scatter.

Her hot breath brushed against his fingertips. Pei Ji shot her a look of pure disgust. His gaze landed on her gaping collar—her fair neck and collarbones seemed to glow.

Sensing her soft hand slide up to his leg, Pei Ji lifted his foot and kicked her square in the chest.

Jiang Huaiyue was sent crashing into a nearby table and chair. Pain and heat spread through her body. She had never suffered such humiliation and couldn’t hold back her tears.

She knew that tonight, she had to save herself. No matter what, she couldn’t let Pei Ji toss her to some random man.

With that thought, she grabbed a cup from the table, smashed it, then picked up a shard of porcelain and stabbed it fiercely into her own thigh—desperate to use the pain to suppress the overwhelming desire in her body.

“Your Highness, I’ll take care of it myself. No need to trouble yourself,” Jiang Huaiyue said through gritted teeth, brows tightly knit.

No matter what, she had to live. She and Wanwan were in the same car crash—maybe Wanwan had transmigrated too. She had to survive the night.

Pei Ji watched her movements, noticing the defiance in her eyes. He rose from the bed and said, “Then this prince shall wait and see.”

With those words, he turned and left.

Jiang Huaiyue, her nerves finally slackening, collapsed to the ground. Weakly, she called out, “Someone… anyone…”

Outside the door, Qiuchan, who had been standing guard, heard the sound and rushed in. Seeing the mess in the bridal chamber and her lady on the ground, she hurried over.

“My lady, what happened to you?”

“Qiuchan, get cold water—I need a bath. Hurry,” Jiang Huaiyue bit her lip, tightly clutching the bloodstained porcelain in her hand, crimson dripping from her fingers.

Qiuchan helped her sit up before quickly dashing out to prepare.