Creak—
The heavy, carved wooden door emitted a dull groan as it was slowly pulled open from within. In the courtyard, the whistling autumn wind seemed to stall in that very instant. Every person’s breath hitched, their eyes locked fixedly on the widening gap.
Jifeng stood at the forefront, the tendons in his hand—tightly gripping his sword hilt—bulging as he prepared for the worst. The servants beneath the tree trembled so violently that their knees knocked together, their fingers white-knuckled as they clutched the dingy, dust-gray body bags. They could practically smell the thick, nauseating stench of blood they were certain awaited them.
The door gaped wider. The cool, early-autumn morning light streamed straight into the dim wedding chamber. There was no blood spreading across the floor. No severed limbs tossed aside. And certainly none of the stomach-churning stench of carnage.
A fair, slender hand with a healthy, rosy glow lazily reached up to grasp the carved door frame. Immediately after, a petite figure sluggishly shuffled out from behind the door.
“Phew… what a good sleep. The bed in this Prince’s mansion is absolutely divine.”
Shen Yu kept her eyes closed, opening her mouth wide to let out a gigantic, completely unladylike yawn. Mumbling to herself, she stretched her arms in a long, luxurious arc, her bones popping with a series of satisfying cracks. The morning sunlight bathed her unadorned, youthful face; she looked radiant, her complexion better than ever.
Because she had gorged herself on red bean cakes the night before, her cheeks looked even rounder and more hydrated than when she had arrived at the estate yesterday.
Thud.
A servant’s jaw dropped so wide that the body bag in his hand slid to the bluestone floor, kicking up a tiny puff of dust.
A deathly silence hung over the entire courtyard, as if time itself had frozen. Everyone stared, dumbstruck and ghost-white, at the vibrant, living girl on the steps. She wasn’t dead? The new Princess actually wasn’t dead?!
Not only was she alive, but looking at her glowing, rosy face and boundless energy, one couldn’t tell she’d just survived a life-or-death night of terror. It looked more like she’d spent a holiday in a luxury suite at the Ninth Prince’s mansion!
The old maid crouching under the tree rubbed her eyes vigorously, unable to believe what she was seeing, half-convinced she was witnessing a broad-daylight resurrection. That was the cold-blooded Yama King they were talking about! The Ninth Prince who could snap the neck of a beauty gifted by the Emperor without even blinking! How could anyone walk out of his room in one piece, not even a single hair out of place?
Just as the crowd was plunged into a void of shock, unable to process a single thought, a deliberately loud, dry cough shattered the eerie stillness.
“Ahem!”
From behind the crowd, a middle-aged man with a slightly plump frame, dressed in a dark purple silk robe, strolled out with his hands behind his back. It was Li Quan, the Chief Steward of the Ninth Prince’s mansion. Having served the late Emperor, he was deeply entrenched in the household and was notorious for his overbearing and arrogant behavior.
He squinted his cloudy eyes, staring daggers at Shen Yu, who was standing on the steps, patting her belly and looking for breakfast. Deep within his eyes flashed a streak of unconcealed malice and frustration. This fool sent by the Marquis’s estate actually survived the night? How utterly bizarre.
He had accepted a hefty bribe from influential figures outside the mansion and had practically signed a military pledge. The benefactor had ordered that if the Prince didn’t kill the bride last night, he was to ensure she was thoroughly humiliated and ruined today. Since his master hadn’t done the job, it fell to him, the loyal servant, to find an excuse to “ease his benefactor’s worries.”
Li Quan’s shriveled lips curled into a cold, cruel arc. He immediately turned and shot a subtle, knowing glance at a henchman standing nearby. The servant understood instantly, lowered his head, and hurried away.
Shen Yu, having finished her stretch, was rubbing her rumbling stomach, wondering where she could snag a luxury breakfast. Before long, the servant returned at a trot, carrying a black lacquer tray. Sitting steadily on the tray was a gold-rimmed blue-and-white porcelain bowl, still steaming hot.
Li Quan put on a mask of oily, faux-respect, personally picking up the tray. He walked with an arrogant, waddling gait until he reached the steps right in front of Shen Yu. “This old servant, Li Quan, is the Chief Steward of this mansion. I greet the Princess. Did the Princess rest well last night?”
Shen Yu stopped rubbing her belly and blinked her clear, innocent eyes at him. “It was great! The quilts in your Prince’s mansion are so soft, I didn’t want to get up.”
She answered with utter sincerity, but her words made the surrounding servants gasp, and even the corner of Jifeng’s eye twitched twice.
Li Quan’s mouth stiffened. He fought the urge to roll his eyes and shoved the tray forward. “It is good that the Princess is well. However, according to the ancestral rules of the Ninth Prince’s mansion…” He dragged out the words, his tone thick with condescending pressure.
“On the first morning after the bride enters the home, you must drink this ‘Ten-Part Great Tonic Soup’ on an empty stomach.”
“This is not only to show respect for the Prince, but it also symbolizes that the Princess will soon bear heirs for the mansion and allow the family line to flourish.”
Shen Yu lowered her head, taking a curious look at this so-called “Great Tonic Soup.” One look, and she nearly vomited the red bean cake she’d eaten the night before.
The soup was unnaturally thick, possessing a sickening, murky yellow hue. Even more disgusting was the layer of strange, undissolved, powdery substance floating on the surface. The air was filled with an indescribable, bizarre stench—like a bucket of slop brewed from a pile of moldy medicinal herbs and dirt. In terms of appearance and smell, even the most notorious “dark cuisine” from a modern university cafeteria would have to bow in defeat.
“I—can I not drink it? I suddenly don’t feel hungry anymore.”
Shen Yu shrank her neck, playing the part of a frightened, tiny quail perfectly. She waved her hands repeatedly, her face a canvas of resistance and fear. Seeing her so weak and submissive, Li Quan’s disdain deepened, and the fake smile vanished from his face.
“That is not for the Princess to decide. This is an iron law of this house.” Li Quan’s tone became harsh and cold, thick with undisguised coercion. “If the Princess refuses to drink, you are breaking the rules. Even if I have to sacrifice my old life, I will ensure you swallow every drop!”
Just as Shen Yu was planning to continue playing the stuttering fool and figure out a way to flip that bowl of poison over, a sharp, piercing alarm sounded in her mind.
[Ding! Ding! Ding! High-energy warning! High-energy warning!]
[System radar scan complete! This bowl of liquid contains a massive, lethal dose of Croton powder!]
Shen Yu froze. Croton powder? Wasn’t that the legendary, high-damage, explosive laxative that dominated every ancient “harem drama” ever written?
The system’s mechanical voice spoke at a frantic pace, even tinged with a streak of schadenfreude. [According to the system’s precision scan, this powder is not only plentiful but highly concentrated! Host, if you drink even a tiny sip, this system can guarantee with its core code that you will be spending three days and three nights in the latrine!]
[You will be purged until you are dehydrated, until your soul departs your body, until you question the very meaning of existence!]
Shen Yu inhaled sharply. Good grief, this hypocritical old man looked dignified, but his heart was more venomous than a dead rat in a sewer!
She was, after all, a young woman with a reputation to keep. If she were to suffer a violent, explosive bout of diarrhea in front of hundreds of servants on her second day as a bride, the scene would be too “beautiful” to even imagine. This wasn’t about her health—this was an attempt at social assassination, meant to turn her into a laughingstock for the entire capital’s nobility!
[This old goat dares to play me? Does he think I’m a vegetarian?]
Shen Yu kept her eyes lowered, maintaining her trembling, defenseless facade. But behind the cover of her dense, curly lashes, a flash of crafty, dangerous light darted through her clear eyes.
Her pupils danced as she instantly cooked up a perfect “counter-move.” He wanted to see her humiliate herself by having an accident in public? Fine. Then today, she would give everyone a show to remember—and they would see who ended up exploding in the middle of the courtyard!
Seeing Shen Yu hesitate, Li Quan assumed she had been thoroughly cowed by the rules he had brandished. He sneered, deciding to add one final flame to the fire. He lunged forward a step, his voice rising sharply in a display of unbridled arrogance.
He intentionally spoke at a volume loud enough for every servant in the courtyard to hear.
“If the Princess refuses to drink this soup, it is because she does not hold the Prince in her eyes!”
“This is a grave disrespect to the Prince! Does the Princess wish to experience the house rules of this mansion?!”
The label of “disrespect” was heavy and crushing. In the estate of the Living Yama King, being disrespectful was a capital offense that could cost her her head at any moment. Li Quan wore a mask of sinister triumph, as if he could already see the pathetic sight of Shen Yu being forced to drink the soup and subsequently making a total fool of herself.
And at that moment, at the far end of the corridor not far from the courtyard, the sound of light wooden wheels rolling across the floor silently came to a stop.
Chu Xiao, dressed in a black robe, sat upright in his wheelchair, his body radiating an icy aura that forbade anyone from coming near. His bottomless, sharp, hawk-like eyes were fixed beyond the carved railing, silently observing everything unfolding in the courtyard.
Facing Li Quan’s relentless, shrill threats, Shen Yu finally seemed to reach her breaking point. She took a deep breath.
With trembling, delicate hands, she reached out. Under the watchful eyes of the crowd, she slowly and firmly grasped the blue-and-white porcelain bowl filled to the brim with Croton powder.