Chapter 027: Being a Secondary Consort Is Also Fine

Lan Xun was momentarily at a loss, unsure how to respond… afraid that if he answered incorrectly, she’d continue sulking, which only gave him a headache.

Mu Shengsheng knew it was time to give him a way out.

Her expression softened, and she moved closer to him like a gentle little cat, pressing her cheek against his arm. She spoke with tender affection, “Your Highness, Shengsheng only wishes to have a proper status, to reside openly in the Regency Prince’s mansion. I understand that the title of the principal princess consort is a matter of state importance, not to be taken lightly, and you cannot decide lightly. Perhaps… Shengsheng being a secondary consort would also be acceptable.

“Shengsheng’s heart is devoted entirely to Your Highness. Could it be that you would truly let her die with regret?”

Mu Shengsheng thought that Zisu’s reasoning made sense. Being the principal consort carried immense pressure; she might fail to prolong her life and die even sooner. It would be far better to be a secondary consort—living freely and gracefully.

A prince’s secondary consort was still considered a wife; even after death, she could enter the royal ancestral hall. Moreover, Lan Xun wouldn’t need anyone’s consent, avoiding interference from the Grand Empress Dowager.

This time, surely Lan Xun wouldn’t refuse?

Sure enough, Lan Xun paused thoughtfully. This time, he did not reject her outright, but remained calm and said, “Everything will be decided when the Xuanwu Marquis returns to the capital. Is that acceptable?”

Mu Shengsheng thought it made sense. Marriage was a matter of parental arrangement and matchmakers. Even if Lan Xun wanted to propose, he would have to speak with her father—surely he wouldn’t go to her stepfather. She had been impatient and overlooked this point.

Her heart swelled with secret joy. So this meant Lan Xun had agreed to let her be a secondary consort?

Now she just wondered where her father was and when he would return.

Lan Xun held the bowl of medicine and said, “Drink it first.”

Mu Shengsheng leaned forward to look closely at the concoction, immediately frowning and retching slightly.

The dark brown medicine was thick and sticky, giving off a foul odor even from a distance. No matter how many medicines she had taken since childhood, none had tasted this bad.

Instinctively resisting, her shoulders recoiled slightly. She looked at Lan Xun pleadingly. “Can I not take it?”

Lan Xun shook his head. “This is a prescription Luo Qing prepared according to the Qing Nang Jing. Good medicine tastes bitter. Drink it first, then eat some oranges, and it will be fine.”

At his reminder, she noticed a small bamboo basket filled with fresh, enticing oranges. Her eyes instantly sparkled.

She had no idea she could eat oranges at this time of year.

These were the first early-season oranges of the year, sent as tribute from Huainan for the nobility to taste. Even most noble families couldn’t get them. Lan Xun had brought some back from the palace earlier, but as he wasn’t fond of fruit, he had them delivered to Mu Shengsheng’s courtyard.

Determined, Mu Shengsheng steeled herself and, thinking it was better to get it over with, picked up the bowl. Holding her breath, she gulped the entire bowl down in one go.

The bitter taste filled her mouth and throat all the way to her stomach. She quickly signaled Lan Xun to give her an orange to soothe her.

Watching such a small mouth finish such a large bowl in just a few gulps, Lan Xun was quietly surprised. When she gestured, he came back to his senses and handed her an orange.

Eagerly, she peeled it, popped a slice in her mouth, and it was like tasting pure nectar—the sweet, tangy, refreshing flavor instantly washed away the bitter aftertaste.

The girl’s face lit up, her eyes narrowed into crescent shapes, chewing and swallowing the orange with delight. She praised generously, “Delicious!”

Lan Xun, usually indifferent to food, didn’t understand how such a simple orange could make her so happy.

Seeing her eat so heartily, he was silently curious. What was so special about this orange?

Mu Shengsheng, as if reading his thoughts, broke off a segment and held it before him. “Your Highness, try some?”

Lan Xun was about to refuse, but before he could speak, Mu Shengsheng popped the orange slice into his mouth.

He couldn’t spit it out, so he reluctantly chewed it. After just two bites, his brow furrowed instantly.

So sour…

How was this supposed to be delicious?

Seeing his face contort, Mu Shengsheng burst into laughter, shaking with glee—there was a hint of schadenfreude.

Already breathtakingly beautiful, her smile spread her features elegantly, making her look even more stunning, masking any traces of illness. Like a blooming hibiscus, her laughter sounded like the tinkling of a bell in the wind, clear and delightful.

Lan Xun stared at her smile, feeling warmth rise in his chest, as if something inside him was slowly melting.

The slight sweetness of the orange balanced the sourness, making it almost pleasant.

Remembering that Mu Shengsheng had not eaten dinner yet, he asked, “Are you hungry?”

She shook her head. She had sneaked snacks earlier, plus some hidden treats, and now an orange—she wasn’t hungry at all.

Lan Xun asked again, “Do you feel anything unusual in your body?”

He meant to check if the medicine he had given earlier had taken effect.

In truth, when Mu Shengsheng sulked in the room, the medicine had already begun working.

She felt warmth flow through her body, pain and discomfort vanished, her energy fully restored, her breathing smooth—similar to when she was close to Lan Xun.

Her illness seemed improved, but strangely, her lifespan hadn’t extended.

After washing up and lying down, she pondered the matter.

She realized that how long she could live wasn’t controlled by medicine, but some mysterious force. Only being close to Lan Xun could prolong her life. Medicines could improve her body, but couldn’t extend her lifespan.

In other words, the doctor’s medicine healed her body; proximity to Lan Xun extended her life.

If her days ran out, even curing her illness wouldn’t save her.

To survive, she could never be free from Lan Xun.

Ah, at least he might agree to make her a secondary consort.

Every day she kissed him, she could gain five extra days of life; a year would give five years, ten years would give fifty.

She didn’t need to live forever—fifty years would suffice.

In ten years, she’d have accumulated fifty years’ worth of life, then she could leave quietly.

Otherwise, if he ever discovered the truth, that she feigned affection to survive, she wouldn’t know how to explain herself.

Unnoticed, night fell deep. Lan Xun finished his work, extinguished the lights, and slept.

Mu Shengsheng lay in bed, exhausted, yet forced her eyes open to stay awake.

She couldn’t sleep—she had to wait until Lan Xun fell asleep to sneak a kiss.