Everyone in the imperial city of Great Zhou knew that there was a major event today—His Royal Highness the Crown Prince was taking a consort!
Speaking of this Royal Highness, there was truly enough to talk about for three days and three nights! He was graceful as jade, extraordinarily handsome, skilled in both scholarship and martial arts, comparable to a heavenly god descended to the mortal realm.
At seventeen, he had already gone to the battlefield, commanding troops like a divine strategist and slaughtering enemies like cutting grass. Rumor had it that the iron-blooded Asura wore a suit of battle armor as cold as a blade, and standing upright with his spear in hand was enough to strike terror into enemies a thousand miles away!
He could truly be called the dream lover of every woman across the Nine Provinces and the worshipped deity of every man.
Yet this Royal Highness, at twenty-three years of age, had not taken a single wife or concubine. People in the streets were all debating: just what kind of celestial beauty could possibly catch His Royal Highness the Crown Prince’s eye and match his heroic bearing?
And just like that, the Fourth Prince of Zhao, who had come for the political marriage, was sent over. Several luxurious carriages slowly drove into Lidu through the flying snowflakes. The streets along the way were packed with citizens, everyone stretching their necks, eager to catch a glimpse of the Fourth Prince’s stunning countenance.
“They always say Zhao produces beauties, but I wonder what this young man looks like?” Among the crowd, some people were already whispering and discussing.
“I heard that in Zhao, taking men as consorts or concubines is a common occurrence, but it’s not like that here in Great Zhou! If you ask me, this political marriage is nothing more than a forced purchase; it won’t last long!”
“Exactly! Even the stunningly gorgeous Princess of Yun from before didn’t catch our Crown Prince’s eye, let alone a rough-and-tumble man!”
“If you ask me, he’ll be swept out the door within three days…”
Just at that moment, the window curtain of one carriage was lifted, revealing a narrow gap as the youth inside cast an indifferent glance outward.
That single look made the row of chattering citizens fall instantly silent, their gazes staring blankly in the direction of the carriage until it could no longer be seen.
“Was that… the Fourth Prince of Zhao?” Someone in the crowd finally snapped back to their senses.
“Good heavens!! I have never seen such a breathtakingly beautiful person in my entire life!”
“An appearance and temperament like that can indeed match our Crown Prince.”
“I think he’s nothing short of a disaster! What if His Royal Highness loses self-control, becomes completely infatuated with romance, and ruins state affairs?!”
The carriage rumbled along all the way until it stopped outside the Crown Prince’s residence.
“Young master, we have arrived.” Outside the carriage came the voice of a servant, sounding very much like Jiang Ran. Song Beiyao knew inwardly that this was not his friend, but Ling Shuang, a spy who had infiltrated the Crown Prince’s residence alongside him.
In the original novel, this person was only glossed over with a single stroke. Song Beiyao only knew that Ling Shuang possessed formidable martial arts skills, came from a professional assassin organization, and was not closely acquainted with the original body. The two of them merely shared the same goal: to bring down Pei Ji.
Seen in this light, the position of Crown Prince posed an extremely high level of danger, which made it hardly surprising that Pei Ji was more ruthless than ordinary people.
Coughing lightly a few times, Song Beiyao emerged from the carriage compartment and stepped down.
A brazier was placed right in front of the carriage. As he gently stepped across it, his footing became unstable and he nearly tumbled over.
Ling Shuang immediately steadied him, secretly channeling his internal energy. Noticing that Song Beiyao’s complexion was much paler than a few days prior and his body far more frail, he asked with a puzzled frown, “What is wrong with the young master?”
With outsiders watching, Ling Shuang temporarily put on the fake act of a servant towards him. Once they were alone, however, this person would become a dangerous hazard.
Song Beiyao lifted his eyelids slightly, glanced at him, and replied with a gentle, smiling tone: “I was worried that Pei Ji might suspect me if he found out I know martial arts, so I took a pill inside the carriage to suppress my martial energy. It has some side effects, but it’s nothing to worry about.”
Ling Shuang was slightly taken aback. He had always known about Song Beiyao’s beauty, but that beauty had previously felt like a soulless marionette stiff and reserved.
Yet that glance just now seemed to have infused him with a soul; every shift of his brows and eyes was brimming with lively radiance. Even the mole at the corner of his eye was alluring enough to steal away a person’s gaze.
This person was acting awfully strange today.
“Your Highness the Fourth Prince.” At that moment, a man in his late forties stepped forward from the front of the Crown Prince’s residence. “This old slave is Steward Zhang, the chief steward of the Crown Prince’s residence. Please follow this old slave into the estate, Your Highness.”
Steward Zhang did not have many scenes in the book, but he appeared frequently. As a veteran who had served the Crown Prince for over ten years, Pei Ji trusted him deeply.
Usually, whenever Pei Ji stayed in the study, feeling out of sorts or encountering some trouble, Steward Zhang would bring in a bowl of hot tea, acting as a sympathetic uncle and listener. He could be considered one of the very few people whose words carried weight in front of Pei Ji.
Song Beiyao retrieved a brocade pouch from his sleeve. Inside was a piece of exquisite, high-value white jade he had picked out from his dowry gift boxes while inside the carriage.
He shoved the brocade pouch into Steward Zhang’s hand, his expression filled with respect and warmth: “Winter is upon us and the freezing weather is severe. Steward Zhang has been waiting outside the estate for so long; you’ve truly worked hard.”
As a servant, Steward Zhang rarely received such considerate treatment from a master. Although he felt a mild touch of emotion in his heart, he still started to draw his hand back.
Song Beiyao held onto his hand: “This white jade would make wonderful pendants or earrings for a woman. If Steward Zhang has a daughter at home, she will surely love it.”
Reminded of his daughter who was of marriageable age, Steward Zhang stopped declining. Accepting the brocade pouch, he led Song Beiyao into the Crown Prince’s residence.
The interior of the Crown Prince’s residence was luxurious and magnificent, yet it felt even less lively than the outside street. Large red brocade balls were merely hung haphazardly at a few eaves corners; there were no banquet guests invited, no celebratory fireworks, and not even Pei Ji himself made an appearance.
This matched the plot of the novel: Pei Ji had never wanted a political marriage, but imperial orders could not be disobeyed. Once the royal of the political marriage entered the estate, he simply left them neglected on the side without paying them much heed.
Leading the way in front, Steward Zhang turned back to say to Song Beiyao: “Consort, His Royal Highness the Crown Prince is currently discussing official matters in the study. Please allow this old slave to guide the Consort to Yanwennuan Pavilion first.”
Just as he finished speaking, the sound of coughing drifted over from behind.
Turning back, he saw the youth clad in crimson robes standing amidst the wind and snow. His raven hair was pulled up high, fluttering in the gale and brushing across his jade-like cheeks. The pale complexion added several layers of a fragile, shattering aesthetic, stunning to the absolute limit.
In his entire life, Steward Zhang had seen countless beauties both inside and outside the palace, yet he had never laid eyes on someone as ethereal as an immortal. Seeing the youth’s pained expression as he covered his lips, coughing incessantly with blood seeping between his fingers, Steward Zhang hurried forward to ask in concern, “Is the Consort feeling unwell?”
Song Beiyao leaned slightly against Ling Shuang, offering a pale, faint smile: “Ever since His Majesty informed me that I would be married to the Crown Prince of Great Zhou, I have looked forward to it day and night with excitement in my heart. But I also worried that His Royal Highness, being a paragon among men, might look down upon me. After fretting over it repeatedly, I fell ill.”
With that, he coughed a few times and asked weakly, “Steward Zhang, do you think I will be able to see His Royal Highness today?”
Steward Zhang was temporarily at a loss for how to respond. His Royal Highness the Crown Prince had long since given instructions that the Consort was to be sent straight to Yanwennuan Pavilion upon entering the estate. Given the Prince’s temperament, let alone today, it was doubtful he would even see the Consort a few days from now.
Yet looking at the youth’s eager expression his eyes damp and soaked as if dipped in snow, gazing at him just like that made it impossible for anyone to find the heart to refuse.
Furthermore, he had just accepted that brocade pouch.
“Consort, this old slave will go notify the Crown Prince,” Steward Zhang answered this way. “This old slave will first summon a physician to examine the Consort.”
Song Beiyao drooped his head powerlessly and curved the corners of his lips in a faint smile: “Very well, thank you for your trouble, Steward Zhang.”
In the evening, the dining hall.
The tall and imposing man walked over to the table and sat down. Across a table full of dishes, he dined entirely alone.
Pei Ji disliked having servants standing by while he ate, so only Steward Zhang was present in the dining hall to attend to him.
Steward Zhang stood respectfully to one side, raising his eyes from time to time to observe his master. The Crown Prince had never been someone to wear his emotions on his surface, yet today he looked somewhat different, his brows carrying a hint of dark shadow.
When the Prince had almost finished eating, Steward Zhang finally spoke up to inquire, “Did His Royal Highness encounter any troublesome matters today? This old slave notices that you seem rather displeased.”
Pei Ji put down his chopsticks, pressed his temple, and said, “Have a portrait artist come to the estate tomorrow.”
He did not want to drag things out or beat around the bush. The person in his dream possessed an outstanding appearance; surely creating a portrait and then searching for the individual would not be a difficult task.
“Understood.” Steward Zhang did not ask for the reason, instead casting a few more glances at the Prince.
“Does Steward Zhang have something on your mind today?” Pei Ji noticed his action.
Steward Zhang lowered his head and said, “The Consort entered the estate today.”
“Who is the Consort?”
“The Fourth Prince of Zhao, the one His Majesty bestowed upon you for the political marriage,” Steward Zhang reminded him.
Pei Ji remembered. Today was indeed the day the Crown Prince’s secondary consort entered the estate. This matter did not fall within his sphere of concern, so he simply gave a brief “I know” and stood up, intending to leave.
“Your Highness.” Steward Zhang spoke up once more. “The Consort endured a long and exhausting journey and fell ill upon entering the estate today. He should be awake by now. Would Your Highness care to go take a look?”
Pei Ji paused for a fraction of a second, his gaze turning slightly cold: “This king should have made it clear that matters concerning him require no reporting. Could it be that he sent you to say this?”
“This… well, no.” Steward Zhang lowered his head with a trace of guilt. “This old slave merely felt that since the Consort fell ill right after entering the estate, Your Highness paying him a visit would prevent any potential complaints from the state of Zhao.”
Dinner had just concluded, so taking a walk to aid digestion was not out of the question anyway. Pei Ji lifted his foot and walked outward: “Very well, let’s go take a look then.”
Inside Yanwennuan Pavilion.
Ling Shuang helped Song Beiyao up from the couch, brought over a bowl of thick, pitch-black medicinal broth, and said bluntly, “Drink your medicine.”
The medicine looked exceedingly bitter at a glance and difficult to swallow down.
Song Beiyao glanced at it briefly before quickly looking away, fixing his gaze on the face that was identical to his former friend’s.
That face was young and handsome, yet his expression was exceptionally twisted and awkward. Finding it quite amusing in his heart, Song Beiyao drawled leisurely, “Leave it there; I’ll drink it myself later.”
Ling Shuang instantly breathed a sigh of relief. The medicine had already been brought over, so whether he drank it or not was no longer his concern. Setting the soup bowl down, he turned around ready to exit.
“Wait,” Song Beiyao called out to stop him.
“What is it?” Ling Shuang turned back with some impatience.
Song Beiyao smiled faintly at him: “I’m afraid of bitterness. Trouble yourself to fetch me a few candies.”
This person smiled with an utterly harmless expression while leaning weakly against the bed, looking rather pitiful. Ling Shuang wasn’t going to fall for that trick; he let out a cold snort through his nose and said, “I’m not actually your servant, stop bossing me around!” With that, he turned around and walked out of the room without looking back.
Before long, he swept back into the room like a gust of wind, grabbed a handful of candies, tossed them onto the couch, and snapped, “So troublesome! Just this once.” Having said that, he bolted out of the room again.
Song Beiyao tucked the candies away one by one, the smile at the corners of his lips growing deeper. Whether it was Jiang Ran or Ling Shuang, teasing them both was quite entertaining.
As he smiled, he suddenly began coughing heavily into his chest. In the lower left corner of his vision, a grey number abruptly popped up: -199.
“Wasn’t it -198 before? Why did it drop now?” Song Beiyao asked the system.
Upon hearing this, the system felt a thrilling sense of regaining total control. Straightening its nonexistent spine, it declared, “Your current fortune points are negative, so 2 points are automatically deducted every day. When your fortune points drop below -200, you will enter a near-death state.”
Are you scared? Are you terrified? Tremble, ignorant human!
“Is that so?” Song Beiyao pressed an index finger against his chin, his tone calm: “With daily deductions on top of that, it looks like the collection progress will be a little slower.”
The system: “???” You must be putting on a brave face! You definitely are!
“Cough cough… cough cough cough…” Song Beiyao clearly felt that with the fortune points dropping by 1, his body felt even more miserable. Half-reclining on the couch, he thought to himself that he needed to see Pei Ji as soon as possible.
At that moment, Ling Shuang trotted back into the room with a hurried expression, muttering under his breath, “Pei Ji is here.”
No sooner had Song Beiyao heard those words than he saw a tall, slender figure step across the threshold in the distance and walk inside.
He really came right on time.
As the figure drew closer, the face that had been described with exaggerated praise in the original text gradually came into view.
Very handsome, quite dashing this was Song Beiyao’s first impression. Even having seen so many handsome guys in the entertainment industry, he couldn’t find anyone of Pei Ji’s specific type.
That face had exceptional bone structure, with three-dimensional contours carved like a knife, sword-like brows slanting into his temples, deep-set eyes, and a high bridge of the nose. He was also very tall, visually appearing no less than 190 centimeters. A black brocade robe accentuated his broad shoulders and narrow waist, giving him an immensely powerful aura and a cold, tough temperament that screamed “stay away from strangers.”
Song Beiyao raised an eyebrow with keen interest.
Whether described in the novel or seen in reality, it was not hard to tell that this person was a tough nut to crack. If he wanted to cuddle up to him to leech fortune points, he would probably have to put in quite a bit of effort.
While Song Beiyao was sizing up Pei Ji, Pei Ji was likewise sizing him up in return.
“Steward Zhang, is this the new Consort in the estate you spoke of?”
“Indeed.”
Pei Ji’s wolf-like eyes stared fixedly at the youth clad in crimson robes. That exceptionally stunning face was identical to the person who had killed him in his premonition dream!
Hah, he had delivered himself right to the doorstep, saving him the trouble of searching.
“Someone come!” At his command, several guards stepped into the room instantly.
At the same time, coughing all the while, Song Beiyao rose from the couch and started walking toward Pei Ji.
“Take him”
Song Beiyao suddenly coughed up a mouthful of blood. His fortune points were simply too low; if this kept up, he probably wouldn’t last until tomorrow…
“Arrest him!”
The world gradually blurred into a haze. Song Beiyao could no longer hear what Pei Ji was saying, relying entirely on sheer willpower to sustain himself. Clenching his teeth tightly, he lunged in Pei Ji’s direction.
It wasn’t until he wrapped his arms around the man’s rugged, muscular waist that he finally let out a breath of relief.
Pei Ji’s body instantly stiffened. He felt the youth’s fluffy head pressed against his neck, the hair tickling him with a faint sensation of warmth.
Then that body began sliding downward, but Pei Ji showed not the slightest intention of reaching out to support him.
Seeing this scene, several guards froze, uncertain whether they should make an arrest or not.
“What are you standing around for? Throw him into the dungeon,” Pei Ji commanded with a cold expression.
At that moment, Ling Shuang rushed forward and dropped to his knees: “Your Royal Highness the Crown Prince, what is the meaning of this? My young master is the dignified Fourth Prince of Zhao, how can you—”
“Whether he is the Fourth Prince of Zhao,” Pei Ji interrupted him in a frigid tone, “this king will know after interrogating him tomorrow.”
The guards immediately carried the unconscious youth away.
Steward Zhang did not understand his master’s intention and was just about to say a couple of words when, upon raising his head, he caught sight of this master he had served for over a decade displaying such chilling, cold-blooded murderous intent for the very first time.
He had no choice but to close his mouth, thinking anxiously in his heart that he hoped nothing truly serious was happening.