Chapter 23 – Natural Allure Is Also a Skill

Wei Zilin reached out and stroked her startled, wide eyes. His gaze was dark and heavy.
“What is it? Are you disappointed to see it’s me?”

“Wei Zilin, are you crazy?!”

Shen Xingwan struggled, trying to push him away, but Wei Zilin gripped her waist fiercely and pulled her into his arms with a desperate growl.
“Yes, I am crazy! I’ve gone mad for you!”

Shen Xingwan was terrified by his sudden frenzy, frozen and unable to move.

The man before her no longer resembled the spirited Crown Prince who had just taken a beautiful wife and concubines. He now looked haggard and weary, having lost much of his former vitality.

He was noticeably thinner, with sharper jawlines, sunken cheeks, and bloodshot eyes that were dim and sunken, staring fixedly at her.

The stench of alcohol was overwhelming. Shen Xingwan couldn’t tell how much he’d drunk—only that he was far from sober or capable of reasoning.

She knew not to provoke him further. Heaven knew what irreparable madness he might commit in his state.

She softened her tone, gently coaxing, “Your Highness, you’re drunk. Perhaps you’ve mistaken me for your sister-in-law, Lin’er. Please rest for a bit—I’ll go fetch her for you.”

As she spoke, she lifted her arms to press against his chest, gently trying to push him away.

Wei Zilin frowned and easily caught both her wrists. With his other hand, he encircled her waist and, with a twist, pushed her down onto the couch.

“What are you doing?!”

Shen Xingwan nearly burst into tears out of panic, struggling to push him off and kicking at him, but he easily pinned her down.

Helpless under his weight, she was paralyzed with fear and bit his shoulder.

“Ugh…”

He groaned, pulling her closer with so much force it felt like he might crush her.

“Let me go! What are you doing?! Let me go—!”

Tears streamed down her cheeks as she struggled in vain, crying until her voice broke.

Perhaps her sobs were too heart-wrenching, because Wei Zilin actually stopped. He lifted his head slightly, looking at her with dazed eyes.

“Wanwan…”

Shen Xingwan was so stunned she forgot to cry, staring at Wei Zilin who was mere inches away.

Wanwan—that was the endearing nickname he used to whisper in the past, only in moments of deep passion.

But in this life, they’d never been close, never intimate. Why would he suddenly call her that?

“Why are you crying?”

His eyes were filled with pain, slightly clearer now. He gently wiped her tears with his cool fingertips.

“What exactly are you trying to do?!” Shen Xingwan cried out.

“Yes… what am I trying to do?”
Wei Zilin looked at her blankly, as though searching for the answer himself.

“You’re insane!”

Taking advantage of his daze, Shen Xingwan shoved him aside and tried to run, but he snapped out of it and yanked her back by her waistband.

“Don’t go. Wanwan, don’t go.” He hugged her from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder as he spoke in a low voice.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I haven’t slept a full night in days. I keep dreaming—dreaming of you, of us. In the dream, we’re together… you love me deeply…”

“You’re completely deranged! You need to see the imperial physician immediately!”

Shen Xingwan’s heart pounded in fear. Could he be regaining memories of their past life?

If he really remembered everything, how could she possibly carry out her revenge? She couldn’t allow that to happen!

“No, it’s not that…”

Wei Zilin, drunk and clearly not fully lucid, rubbed his cheek against hers affectionately.
“Lately, I can’t tell if it’s a dream or reality. I keep feeling like it all truly happened.”

“I feel like I really love you.”

“And when I think about you not being by my side… when I think about you giving yourself to another man…”
His voice sank, pained. “It feels like a knife twisting in my chest. It hurts so much…”

Shen Xingwan let out a bitter laugh.
“Your Highness, have you forgotten? Your wife is Lu Yuzhi, the Grand Commandant’s daughter. Your concubine Tang Lin’er is pregnant with your child.”

“On your wedding day, dragging your wife’s sister here to confess your love—how utterly inappropriate.”

Wei Zilin’s entire body tensed.
“Wanwan…”

“Don’t call me that!”

Shen Xingwan shouted, struggling.
“I am the Princess Consort of the Prince Regent! Let me go!”

At that, Wei Zilin laughed mockingly.
“Yan Jinghuan? He’s probably with Tang Lin’er right now. They’re likely too busy to even care where you are.”

Shen Xingwan stared at him in disbelief.
“How could you say that?! Isn’t Tang Lin’er the one you love? Didn’t you two swear eternal devotion? She’s carrying your child! How could you treat her like this?!”

Wei Zilin laughed.
“What did I do to her? Wasn’t it your father who said it himself? If they’re both daughters of the Shen family, why can’t that Shen daughter replace you and marry into the Prince Regent’s household?”

“You…”

Shen Xingwan looked at him with disgust.
“Shameless!”

Wei Zilin was cold and heartless to this extent.

Her stomach turned.

He had only ever loved himself.

Whether it was Tang Lin’er or her, Shen Xingwan, they were merely toys for his amusement.

What he couldn’t obtain, he grew obsessed with. What he could get easily, he discarded without a second thought.

“You planned this whole thing, didn’t you? That’s why you sent Tang Lin’er a wedding dress identical to mine.”

Her voice was icy.

Wei Zilin grabbed her hand, opened her palm, and pressed it to his cheek. He closed his eyes and let out a low “mm.”

“You’re despicable!”

Shen Xingwan couldn’t hold back anymore and slapped him hard.

Wei Zilin’s head snapped to the side. His eyes were bloodshot when he looked back, licking the blood from his lips before pinning her down and tearing off her wedding mantle.

“Wei Zilin!”

She screamed in horror, regretting her impulsive act—but it was too late. Everything was spiraling out of control.

“Didn’t you say you loved me?!” she yelled, trying to stop him.

Wei Zilin paused for a moment—then grew even more violent. He gripped her neck and growled,
“Then let me love you… properly.”

Shen Xingwan had no idea how things had gotten to this point. But now, she could only cry and scream—nothing else.

In her desperate struggle, she was once again reminded of her past life, when she was buried under a mountain of corpses.

That same sense of helplessness and pain surged within her—life slipping away while she could only watch.

She screamed and fought, but he was too strong. She couldn’t even move under his weight.

In utter despair, she cried until her voice broke, then bit down hard on her tongue.

Suddenly, the sound of smashing and shouting came from outside. The doors were kicked open just as Wei Zilin looked up—and was violently kicked to the ground.

A dark cloak swirled through the air and wrapped around her.

“Don’t be afraid. I’m here.”

Shen Xingwan opened her eyes, trembling, and saw Yan Jinghuan’s anguished gaze.

He tightened the cloak around her, his jaw clenched. He turned, grabbed the barely conscious Wei Zilin, and slammed him to the ground. Pulling out the dagger at his waist, he drove it straight through Wei Zilin’s palm.

Wei Zilin screamed in pain and tried to struggle. Yan Jinghuan’s eyes were bloodshot. He pulled out the dagger, raising it to slash at his throat—

“My Lord! You mustn’t!!”

A disguised man threw himself forward and clung to Yan Jinghuan’s arm.
“My Lord, please don’t! We’re in Wei territory! We’ve already risked so much storming the Eastern Palace—if we don’t retreat now, we may not escape!”

Yan Jinghuan was filled with murderous rage. He turned to look at Shen Xingwan, who was shaking all over, and finally put away the bloody dagger. He leaned down and picked her up.

“Let’s go.”

Shen Xingwan curled into his embrace. He held her tightly and carried her out.

As they left, Shen Xingwan caught a glimpse of a black-clad man dragging a sack into the room. He opened it and dumped out a woman dressed in red wedding robes.

She landed on the bed—her bridal veil askew—revealing Tang Lin’er’s face.

Shen Xingwan’s heart ached. She ducked her head and burrowed into Yan Jinghuan’s chest.

Only after they safely returned to the Prince Regent’s estate did she finally change and sit on the bed, still in a daze.

She stared blankly at the pair of wedding candles burning halfway down. Everything before felt like a surreal nightmare.

After a long silence, Yan Jinghuan returned, having handled the aftermath. He was dressed again in bright red wedding robes and sat beside her.

Her original gown was ruined. She wore only a plain red under-robe now, without even a bridal veil.

Yan Jinghuan knew she had been frightened, so he dismissed the servants and spared her any formalities.

Under the soft candlelight, the fury in Yan Jinghuan had faded, and his expression was gentle. He reached for her hand, but she flinched and pulled away.

He said nothing, only removed his outer robe and said softly, “You must be tired. Rest early.”

Shen Xingwan said nothing, moving inward and pulling the wedding quilt over herself.

When he lay down beside her, she turned away, quietly shedding tears.

Her subtle sobs didn’t escape Yan Jinghuan’s ears. He turned to face her and reached out to touch her cheek.

Shen Xingwan hastily wiped her tears, but he still felt the dampness.

He caught her slender wrist as she tried to pull away. His grip tightened slightly and pulled her into his arms.

He wrapped his arms around her, gently stroking her back, whispering near her ear,
“It’s over.”

Shen Xingwan relaxed slightly, burying her face in his chest. At last, she broke down and wept softly.

Yan Jinghuan held her silently, until her sobs gradually subsided and she quieted.

“He didn’t succeed.”

In the stillness, her voice was a barely audible whisper.

Yan Jinghuan froze.

He felt her body tense and tremble. Loosening his hold slightly, he looked down into her eyes.

Her eyes were shut tightly, her body curling in on itself.

“Look at me,” he said.

Shen Xingwan opened her eyes slowly, raising her head to meet his gaze.

His eyes were dark as midnight, fixed on her.

“A woman’s virtue is never beneath her skirts.”

Shen Xingwan burst into tears again.

Yan Jinghuan pulled her tightly into his arms and kissed her on the crown of her head.
“Sleep.”

No one knew how long she cried—only that, eventually, she exhausted herself and, wrapped in warmth and the scent of pine, drifted into deep sleep.

She woke to gentle light filtering through sheer curtains, returning slowly from what felt like a distant dream.

A gentle breeze drifted in, stirring the sheer gauze curtains as it passed, bringing with it the fragrance of newly blossomed branches outside the window. It mingled with the refreshing scent of pine by the pillow, soothing and invigorating.

Shen Xingwan quietly turned her head to glance at Yan Jinghuan, who lay beside her with his eyes closed. His jet-black lashes cast soft shadows on his cheeks, trembling faintly with each breath. Beneath a high, straight nose, his thin lips were lightly pressed together. His long black hair spilled across the pillow like cascading ink.

She had never looked at him so closely before, and only now did she realize just how strikingly handsome he was.

That tiny vermilion mole beneath the corner of his right eye added a strangely captivating charm, making her unable to resist turning her face toward him for a better look.

“Awake?”

Yan Jinghuan suddenly opened his eyes, clarity shining in them. Seeing her caught in the act of staring, she hastily pulled the blanket up over her face in embarrassment, which made him curve his lips in amusement.

“It’s still early. Go back to sleep for a bit. At the hour of the rabbit, we’ll enter the palace to pay respects to the Emperor.”

Upon hearing this, Shen Xingwan pulled the blanket down slightly, revealing her eyes and looking at him.

Noticing the hesitation in her gaze, Yan Jinghuan explained softly, “On the day after the wedding, it is customary to enter the palace and express our gratitude.” As he spoke, he gently placed a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry, with me here, everything will be fine.”

“Mm.”

Shen Xingwan nodded. She trusted him.

Yan Jinghuan got up first to wash and dress before heading to the study to handle some matters. Shen Xingwan, too preoccupied with her thoughts to sleep further, sat up in bed.

Hearing movement inside, the maids waiting outside the door gently pushed it open and filed in with washbasins and dressing items.

Feiyun hurried over, her eyes brimming with tears, and knelt before Shen Xingwan’s couch with a timid expression.

“Miss, I don’t know what happened yesterday. When I accompanied you to the Imperial Noble Consort’s palace, I smelled a strangely sweet scent. Not long after, I felt dizzy and lost consciousness. I slept all the way until now and missed serving you on your wedding night. This maid deserves death—please punish me, Miss.”

Shen Xingwan understood perfectly—Wei Zilin and the Imperial Noble Consort had clearly set a trap to harm her, and Feiyun had been caught up in it. How could she blame her?

Judging by Feiyun’s cluelessness about last night, Yan Jinghuan must have arranged many things behind the scenes.

Shen Xingwan reached out to help Feiyun up, looking her over carefully. Seeing that she was unscathed, she finally felt relieved and said gently, “It’s fine. Are you feeling better now? If you’re still dizzy, go rest. I won’t need you to serve here for now.”

“No, Miss, I’m alright. I just want to stay by your side and serve you properly,” Feiyun quickly replied.

Shen Xingwan nodded and said no more.

Feiyun took up a comb and helped Shen Xingwan wash and dress. While doing so, she noticed the faint traces left on Shen Xingwan’s body and hesitated several times to speak.

When she had finished applying powder and makeup, she looked at Shen Xingwan’s slightly weary and pallid reflection in the mirror and could no longer hold back, her lips pouting as she mumbled:

“Miss, yesterday was your wedding day, a joyous occasion. But seeing you like this just makes my heart ache.”

Shen Xingwan looked at Feiyun in confusion.

Feiyun pursed her lips and, while gently patting pearl powder under her mistress’s slightly darkened eyes, added, “Look at the bruises on your wrists. Miss, your skin is delicate—just a little bump and you turn red. And now you’re so drained—it’s obvious the young master exhausted you all night. He really doesn’t know how to cherish you.”

“…”

Shen Xingwan was momentarily speechless and didn’t know how to respond.

“What’s this about cherishing?” Yan Jinghuan entered from outside, having caught the tail end of the conversation.

Feiyun immediately shut her mouth and focused on pinning up Shen Xingwan’s Lingyun-style bun, adding pearl ornaments.

“Let’s go,” Yan Jinghuan extended his hand.

“Mm.”

Shen Xingwan rose, placing her fingers in his palm. He took her hand and led her out.

Feiyun followed behind, glancing at Yan Jinghuan, who looked refreshed and full of energy. She secretly curled her lips and resolved to brew some nourishing soups for her mistress—she couldn’t let the young master indulge himself and wear her lady down.

In the early morning light, the golden roof tiles of the palace sparkled as sunlight filtered through. Yan Jinghuan and Shen Xingwan walked side by side along the palace path.

Yan Jinghuan wore a dark robe embroidered with a python, his waist girded with a jade belt—dignified and noble. Shen Xingwan was dressed in a moon-white brocade gown, heavily embroidered with begonia patterns. A phoenix hairpin inlaid with red gold and jewels adorned her head, with tasseled ornaments swaying as she moved—elegant and poised.

Not far ahead, Wei Zilin approached the Hall of Mental Cultivation with the Crown Princess Lu Yuzhi and Side Consort Tang Lin’er.

Wei Zilin wore a bright red crown prince’s robe, brimming with confidence. Lu Yuzhi wore a proper crimson palace gown with a phoenix crown and ceremonial robes, walking beside him with stately grace.

Tang Lin’er trailed behind in a light pink gauze dress. Despite her meticulous makeup, she couldn’t hide the hint of sorrow in her eyes.

The two groups met outside the Hall of Mental Cultivation. Wei Zilin’s gaze darkened as he looked at Yan Jinghuan and Shen Xingwan, finally resting on Shen Xingwan’s face, unwilling to look away.

There was a storm of emotion in that gaze—anger, unwillingness, and above all, the bitter hatred of unrequited love.

Shen Xingwan noticed the dark circles under his eyes and the faint blood seeping through the bandage on his hand. She knew he hadn’t had a good night either.

A faint sense of satisfaction settled in her heart.

She wanted him to suffer. But even this paltry suffering was not enough to repay even a fraction of what he had done to her.

From now on, she would tread carefully, step by step, until she dragged him down into an abyss with no escape.

After the attendant announced them, the Emperor summoned them into the hall for an audience.

Inside the Hall of Mental Cultivation, everyone paid their respects.

Yan Jinghuan spoke in a steady, calm voice: “This prince and his consort have come to pay respects to His Majesty.”

Wei Zilin followed, bowing respectfully: “Your son, along with the Crown Princess and Side Consort, greets Father Emperor.”

The ailing Emperor raised his gaze, sweeping it across the group, and gave a faint nod. “You may rise.”

Since the hunting grounds incident, Shen Xingwan hadn’t seen the Emperor again.

Rumors of his grave illness had circulated in the palace several times. The Empress Dowager and the Imperial Noble Consort controlled the Hall of Mental Cultivation, claiming the Emperor needed peace to recover and forbade any disturbance. All state affairs were handed over to the Regent Prince, the Crown Prince, and the ministers of the inner court.

Officials had long been denied an audience and speculation ran wild. Among the people, some even whispered that the Emperor had already died, but the Empress Dowager was hiding the news to prevent chaos, as the Crown Prince hadn’t secured his position and the other princes were restless.

If not for the Crown Prince’s wedding being a major state affair, none of them would have been able to see the Emperor at all.

Now, Shen Xingwan saw with her own eyes—he was still alive.

On the dragon couch, the Emperor looked emaciated, his face as pale as paper, completely devoid of color. His breathing was rapid and shallow. Every breath made his chest rise and fall violently, as if it took all his strength.

His cracked lips trembled, trying to form words, but he could only make indistinct sounds. His eyes were deeply sunken, the once-sharp gaze now dull and clouded, filled with exhaustion and helplessness.

He summoned what little strength remained to raise a thin, skeletal hand and beckoned Yan Jinghuan forward.

As Yan Jinghuan stepped closer, the Emperor fixed his weary gaze on him—full of worry and concern. Though on the brink of collapse, his eyes still held deep attachment.

Yan Jinghuan understood. He nodded slightly, eyes steady and resolute, meeting the Emperor’s gaze.

In that moment, his expression conveyed a clear message: The Fourteenth Prince is safe. Your Majesty need not worry.

That unyielding look was like a warm current, easing the Emperor’s strained nerves.

The worry in his eyes slowly faded. He closed his eyes, and a trace of relief appeared on his wan face, as if a heavy weight had finally been lifted.

He forced himself to speak a few ceremonial phrases, then lay back on the couch and waved a withered hand. “I am tired. You may all withdraw.”

Everyone bowed in response and was about to leave when suddenly, a delicate yet commanding voice rang out: “Not so fast.”

They turned to look and saw the Imperial Noble Consort stepping gracefully out from the inner chamber.

She wore a luxurious palace gown embroidered densely with peonies, a phoenix crown on her head, every step radiating grandeur.

Her lips carried a faint smile, but her tone was firm and imperious. “It’s rare for the new daughters-in-law to visit the palace. Why not stay a while and come to my quarters? Let me show hospitality and teach you the proper ways to serve your husbands.”

Shen Xingwan’s heart clenched. She instinctively stepped behind Yan Jinghuan and lightly tugged his sleeve, her fingers trembling slightly.

Yan Jinghuan’s gaze turned icy. He gently squeezed Shen Xingwan’s hand, then stepped forward and faced the Imperial Noble Consort head-on.

“No need to trouble yourself, Your Highness.”

“Xingwan is the Second Prince’s consort of the Great Yan. She is to be instructed by the Empress of our nation. As for you, Your Highness, you are but a consort of a vassal state. It is not your place to lecture a consort of the Great Yan.”

His words cut through the polite atmosphere like a blade.

The Imperial Noble Consort’s face instantly flushed with red and pale alternately, her smile frozen in place. Fury and murderous intent flashed in her eyes, but she suppressed them.

The hall fell into a heavy silence, broken only by the sound of breathing and the occasional crackle of candle flames.

The sudden standoff made the air feel as if it had frozen.

The Imperial Noble Consort was rendered speechless.

She bit her lip hard, nails digging into her palm.

“Outrageous!”

She raised her voice. “This is the Wei Kingdom’s palace—you, an outsider, dare to behave so rudely!”

Yan Jinghuan sneered and stepped forward again, narrowing his phoenix eyes with a chilling tone, “Imperial Noble Consort, mind your words.”

His overpowering presence made her subconsciously retreat half a step.

Forcing herself to remain composed, she straightened her spine. “I was merely being kind, hoping to grow closer to the new brides. Regent Prince, why twist my intentions?”

Shen Xingwan took a deep breath, summoned her courage, and stepped out from behind Yan Jinghuan. She bowed respectfully.

“Your Highness’s kindness is deeply appreciated. However, as a new bride, I have many matters to attend to and cannot stay long. Should the opportunity arise in the future, I will personally visit Your Highness to seek your guidance.”

The Imperial Noble Consort opened her mouth to speak again—but from the dragon couch, the Emperor suddenly slammed his hand down.

“Enough! All of you, withdraw!”

Everyone lowered their heads and quickly bowed before exiting the Hall of Mental Cultivation, dispersing in different directions.

Once they were far from the hall, Shen Xingwan kept her head lowered and softly mumbled, “Thank you.”

“With me here,” Yan Jinghuan gently squeezed her hand, “no one will ever bully you again.”

With that, he stopped walking and turned to look at her.

“I told you, there’s no need for thanks between us.”

The breeze stirred, carrying with it the faint scent of cold pine from his body. His expression was gentle, like snow melting into spring water.

Shen Xingwan pressed her lips together and finally gave a small nod.

Yan Jinghuan’s eyes held a faint smile as he tightened his grip on her hand and led her toward the palace gate.

Before they could reach the covered walkway, Chief Steward Guo hurried over, panting as he called out, “Your Highness, please wait!”

Shen Xingwan turned to see Chief Steward Guo rushing over with a young eunuch in tow, face flushed red from the run. He barely managed to catch up to them.

Panting heavily, he clasped his hands and saluted Yan Jinghuan. “Your Highness, there’s an urgent report from the Grand Council. With General Shen returning to the capital, the border has lost its key commander. The Hu people have taken the opportunity to rebel and have invaded. In just a few days, several cities have already fallen. Please, you must head to the Grand Council at once.”

Yan Jinghuan exchanged a glance with Shen Xingwan, then asked, “Where is the Crown Prince?”

“His Highness and the Crown Princess are accompanying the Imperial Noble Consort to pay respects to the Empress Dowager. I’ve already sent someone to inform them,” Guo replied, waving his sleeve anxiously. “Oh, Your Highness, please hurry! The council ministers are like ants on a hot pan—they’re running around in panic!”

Yan Jinghuan frowned and did not move. Shen Xingwan knew he was reluctant to leave her.

“You should go,” she said of her own accord. “Don’t worry, I know the way out of the palace.”

Yan Jinghuan looked at her, the concern in his eyes evident. She mimicked his earlier gesture, gently squeezing his hand to reassure him. “Don’t worry. I’ll walk the palace paths under the broad daylight. No demons or ghosts will have anywhere to hide.”

Yan Jinghuan squeezed her hand back and instructed, “Don’t dawdle. Get into the carriage as soon as you leave the palace. I’ll have Xing Zhou meet you.”

“Alright.”

Only after hearing her agree did Yan Jinghuan reluctantly release her hand. He straightened his posture and followed Chief Steward Guo to the Grand Council with a serious expression.

Shen Xingwan watched his figure grow distant before wrapping her cloak tighter around herself and slowly walking toward the palace gate.

She had only just reached the Imperial Garden when raised voices caught her attention. She looked over and spotted Lu Yuzhi and Tang Lin’er standing near a rockery.

The pearls on Lu Yuzhi’s phoenix crown swayed gently with her movements. Normally composed and dignified, she now looked furious, her eyebrows arched and face filled with anger.

Tang Lin’er stood timidly with her head bowed, clutching the corners of her robe, her body trembling slightly.

“Tang Lin’er, you’ve got some nerve!”

Lu Yuzhi scolded furiously, “On the night of the wedding, you dared seduce the Crown Prince and had him spend the night in your room. Do you even see me as the proper consort anymore? You’re just a lowly concubine—how dare you try to seduce and confuse your master!”

Tears welled in Tang Lin’er’s eyes as she stammered, “Sister, I… I truly didn’t. It was His Highness who…”

“Silence!”

Lu Yuzhi was furious. “Still trying to deny it? If you don’t give me an explanation today, I’ll have you carried out sideways!”

As she spoke, she raised her hand to grab Tang Lin’er.

Seeing this, Shen Xingwan quickly understood what was happening—these women clearly had no idea about the chaos that had occurred the night before.

She composed herself and walked over with a look of feigned surprise, raising an eyebrow. “Oh my, what scene are you performing here?”

Lu Yuzhi turned at the sound of her voice, surprise flashing through her eyes. She gave a slight curtsey in greeting.

With a sneer in her voice, she said, “You’re just in time. Help me judge this. Your little sister is utterly shameless!”

Tang Lin’er also bowed, her voice choked with sobs. “Greetings, Princess Consort.”

Shen Xingwan’s lips curled into a faint smile, speaking unhurriedly, “So that’s what this is about—something from the wedding night.”

“In my opinion, Sister Lu, don’t take it too personally. A man’s heart… it can be hard to predict.”

Her gaze swept over Tang Lin’er meaningfully. “Some women are born seductive and just know how to capture a man’s heart. That’s a skill too. Sister Lu, perhaps you should try learning from her.”

Lu Yuzhi’s face turned even uglier. She looked at Tang Lin’er as though she could burn her alive with her eyes.

“You’ve really spoken my mind. Some people just can’t stay in their place. Just because they have a pretty face, they dream of becoming the main wife.”

Tang Lin’er’s eyes filled with tears as she cried out, “Sister, please understand, I’ve always been sincere to His Highness. I only ever wanted to stay by his side—I never dared to have such delusions.”

Shen Xingwan sneered inwardly but kept her outward expression warm and friendly as she added fuel to the fire.

“Oh, don’t belittle yourself. His Highness’s love for you is truly one of a kind. Otherwise, why would he personally seek out a red wedding gown for you, or have you bear his eldest son? Clearly, in his heart, you already hold the place of the main consort. And the child you carry—that must be the legitimate eldest son.”

Lu Yuzhi was so enraged by these words that she stormed forward, grabbed Tang Lin’er by the collar, and yanked at her hair. “You little tramp! I’ll make you understand the difference between a wife and a concubine!”

Tang Lin’er screamed in panic, struggling as she cried, “Sister, let go! I didn’t, I really didn’t…”

Shen Xingwan looked on coldly at the two women locked in a brawl, secretly pleased, though she outwardly feigned concern and stepped forward to intervene.

“Now, now, sisters, don’t be rash. This is palace grounds. If word reaches the Empress Dowager, it’ll be a scandal.”

Though her words seemed to be trying to mediate, her hand subtly restrained Tang Lin’er, making it hard for her to escape.

Lu Yuzhi had earlier dismissed all the attendants before the argument, so no one was there to break up the fight. Tang Lin’er’s hair and makeup were a mess, and she looked utterly pitiful.

Lu Yuzhi, eyes bloodshot with fury, shoved Shen Xingwan aside. “Move! Your Shen family produces nothing good. First a vixen like this, now she dares enter the Eastern Palace. I’ll have to personally train her!”

Shen Xingwan pretended to suddenly realize something and slapped her forehead. “Oh dear, how forgetful of me.”

She gave an apologetic curtsey. “Now that my sister has married into the Eastern Palace, she naturally falls under your jurisdiction, Crown Princess. As her elder sister, it would be improper for me to interfere.”

“That’s more like it,” Lu Yuzhi snapped. “Now leave!”

Shen Xingwan lowered her eyes and bowed respectfully, concealing all emotions. “I take my leave.”

As she stepped through the palace gate, sunlight bathed her figure, but it brought no warmth.

She turned to look back at the towering palace buildings. The golden glazed tiles now seemed particularly cold. Everything that had happened today felt like a nightmare, pressing down on her chest.

Outside the palace gates, the Regent Prince’s carriage was already waiting. Xing Zhou came forward quickly and respectfully opened the carriage door for her.

Shen Xingwan took a deep breath and stepped into the carriage.

The carriage moved slowly, the wheels clattering dully against the stone road. She leaned against the wall, closed her eyes, and gently rubbed her temples, exhaustion evident in every gesture.

The intrigue, the Empress Dowager’s schemes, the chaos between Lu Yuzhi and Tang Lin’er—all of it replayed in her mind like a spinning lantern.

Unconsciously, she clenched her fists, her knuckles turning pale, just hoping for a moment of peace—even if only brief.

She didn’t know how much time passed before the carriage stopped. Shen Xingwan opened her eyes and finally relaxed a little upon seeing the gates of the Regent Prince’s Manor.

After straightening her clothes, she stepped down steadily.

She dined alone upon returning to the manor. Afterwards, the steward arrived with all the household servants to formally pay their respects.

He brought out the account books, keys, name registers, and inventory lists, laying everything out in front of her.

He bowed respectfully and announced, “Now that Your Highness is married, by custom, the household affairs should be handed over to the Princess Consort. Please have a look.”

Shen Xingwan had enough trouble managing her own heart—how could she possibly take on managing the entire household? Moreover, she didn’t even know how long she’d hold the title of Princess Consort.

She was very aware: the State of Yan likely wouldn’t accept her as Yan Jinghuan’s official consort. She didn’t know what his exact intentions were in insisting on marrying her, but once they returned to Yan, he would surely have to marry a noblewoman from his own country.

If that day came and she were cast aside, it would be better not to have had expectations in the first place.

After all, without expectations, there is no disappointment.

If that day did come, she would not make things difficult for him. She would request a peaceful separation and return him his freedom.

Having made up her mind, Shen Xingwan smiled gently. Her voice was soft but composed as she said to the steward, “You’ve been managing the household for many years, and I respect you greatly. I’m still young and new to this manor. If I take over hastily, I fear I’ll make a mess of things.”

She paused and lightly frowned, her tone becoming more apologetic. “I’ve been rather worn out lately and not in the best health. I often feel weak and unwell.” She lifted her eyes to meet the steward’s gaze sincerely.

“You’ve always handled the household affairs efficiently—accounts, purchases, personnel—everything is in order. So I hope you’ll continue managing them on my behalf while I take some time to recover.”

The steward smiled modestly and bowed deeply.

“Your Highness flatters me. This old servant has only done his duty these many years.”

He bowed again and said, “From now on, I will continue managing the household properly. If there’s anything, I will report to Your Highness first and await your instructions. Please take care and recover soon.”

His words were flawless. Shen Xingwan looked at him closely and realized this man was very clever.

After briefing her on the household affairs, the steward dismissed the staff.

Once they had left, Feiyun helped Shen Xingwan wash and prepare for bed.

She lay on the couch, the fine silk bedding brushing against her skin. A faint scent of cold pine lingered on the pillow.

Yan Jinghuan hadn’t returned. She tossed and turned, unable to sleep.

As the night deepened and the world fell into silence, sleep still eluded her.

She got up and walked to the window, pushing it open to get some air. The cool night breeze sent a chill through her, making her shiver.

Suddenly, steady footsteps approached—it was Yan Jinghuan.

He entered the room and saw her by the window. “Why aren’t you asleep? Are you feeling unwell?”

She leaned against the window frame and shook her head. “I’m fine. Just couldn’t sleep.”

Yan Jinghuan walked to the cabinet, opened a camphorwood chest, and took out a lacquer box inlaid with mother-of-pearl. He opened it and retrieved a stick of pale green incense.

He lit it with a fire striker and placed it in the incense holder.

Thin wisps of smoke curled upward, a gentle fragrance slowly filling the room.

As Shen Xingwan smelled the scent, her body froze.

She stared at him in disbelief.

That incense—it was the calming fragrance she had loved most in her previous life.

Back then, exhausted from helping Wei Zilin vie for the throne, she had fallen ill and struggled with insomnia. Before his ascension, she had come across this incense and found it incredibly helpful for sleep. She had been inseparable from it ever since.

But in this life, she had never told anyone about it.

How did Yan Jinghuan know?

Could it be…

He was reborn too?

Shen Xingwan’s heart pounded.

She stared at him, lips trembling, just about to speak when a sharp knock on the door interrupted her.

A servant’s panicked voice rang out from outside.

“Your Highness, Princess Consort—it’s bad news!”

Yan Jinghuan frowned. “Come in.”

The servant rushed in and dropped to his knees. “Reporting to Your Highness, Princess Consort—your elder brother, General Shen Yunchao, has been accused of raising a private army and harboring rebellious intentions. He’s already been imprisoned in the Imperial Dungeon!”

All color drained from Shen Xingwan’s face. Her body swayed and nearly collapsed, but Yan Jinghuan caught her in time, wrapping her in his arms. His eyes turned cold. “Do we know who made the accusation?”

The servant bowed his head and quickly replied, “Several court ministers jointly submitted a memorial, accusing General Shen of misappropriating supplies and raising private forces to stage a rebellion.”