“Fangcao, what time is it now?”
Ruan Mianmian was not, as Lin Zhuo had imagined, waiting sweetly by candlelight. The night was long, and she had already stood up countless times to stretch her legs. If Fangcao hadn’t desperately stopped her, she would have ripped off the red bridal veil long ago.
“I just checked the timepiece, my lady—it’s already the hour of Hai. By reason, His Highness should have come by now, but there’s no sign of movement at all.”
“Could he have drunk himself under the table? Is he one of those legendary ‘three-cups-and-he’s-done’ types?”
Resting her chin in her hands, Ruan Mianmian muttered, “That can’t be. Even if he is a lightweight, no one would dare get the groom drunk on his wedding night—he’s a prince! Unless, of course, the Emperor himself took the field.”
Fangcao blinked. “What? What does the Emperor leading troops to war have to do with this?”
“Nothing,” Ruan Mianmian waved her hand. “Just a joke. But this isn’t right. Fangcao, go out and find out whether His Highness went to the secondary consort’s quarters.”
“Ah?” Fangcao froze. “That’s impossible! You’re the Princess Consort. If His Highness did that, wouldn’t he be slapping the Empress herself in the face?”
“That depends on for whose sake,” Ruan Mianmian said, increasingly convinced of her own suspicion. “That secondary consort was chosen by the Emperor himself. If I were the prince, I’d go to her too.”
“Yes, my lady, I’ll go find out at once.” Fangcao, realizing the seriousness of the situation, hurried off.
Once her maid was gone, Ruan Mianmian stood up, took off her veil, and strode to the table. She grabbed a wedding pastry and started chewing, grumbling as she ate.
“These ancient noble weddings are inhuman. From midnight till now, not a drop of water or a grain of rice—if I hadn’t spent twelve years as a village girl, I’d have fainted by now. I don’t know how those pampered ladies manage it.”
Muttering between bites, she finished three wedding pastries before hearing footsteps outside. She quickly returned to the bed, sat down, and pulled the red veil back over her head.
Moments later, Fangcao’s voice came through the door. “My lady, it’s true! His Highness went to the secondary consort’s courtyard. What should we do?”
“As I thought. So it’s this bad from the start, huh?” Ruan Mianmian rubbed her temples, then slammed a small fist on the bed. “Hmph! He wants to appease the Emperor—but I’m the Empress’s own niece. I’m no pushover!”
She untied the delicate sachet at her waist and handed it to Fangcao. “Here, take this to Qinghui Pavilion. Say exactly what I told you. Got it?”
“I remember,” Fangcao nodded, then hesitated. “But… will this really work? It’s His Highness’s wedding night. Shouldn’t the Princess Consort give him some face?”
“Did he give me any? Whose wedding is this—his and the secondary consort’s? I’m the legitimate bride here!”
Ruan Mianmian didn’t hesitate, pushing Fangcao toward the door. “Go on! Maybe His Highness is feeling awkward right now. You might even help him save face. Trust me—it’ll be fine.”
“But what if His Highness and the secondary consort are… consummating the marriage right now? Wouldn’t I be marching to my death?”
Fangcao still tried to resist, but Ruan Mianmian cut her off sharply. “Impossible. He went to Qinghui Pavilion only to make a political statement—there are real reasons for it. The Empress will understand. But if he actually consummates with the secondary consort tonight, that’s rubbing the Empress’s face in the dirt. He’d have to be insane to go that far.”
“…Alright.”
Fangcao sighed helplessly, giving up trying to make sense of whatever her mistress was saying.
At the doorway, she turned back one more time. “My lady, if I end up locked in the woodshed, you have to come rescue me! You only have me as your maid—if you lose me, you won’t last a day in this residence.”
Ruan Mianmian: “…”
“Such a jinx. Can’t you think positively for once? Why would you get locked up? Don’t worry—if Prince Xiang truly is that unreasonable, I’ll probably be joining you there soon enough. Now go!”
Fangcao: … And she dares call me the jinx?
That night, instead of going to the Princess Consort’s Anlexuan, the prince came to Qinghui Pavilion. White Chuchu was overjoyed.
She sat at his side now, watching him sip sobering soup, her eyes full of tender affection. Father said Prince Xiang was an excellent man—I thought he was only comforting me. Who could have guessed he’d be such an extraordinary person, a hundred, a thousand times better than I’d imagined! From now on, I’ll share his bed, bear his children. Heaven has truly blessed me.
As the thought filled her mind, she blushed and lowered her gaze shyly.
Then Prince Xiang spoke softly, “I drank too much today. I still feel a bit dizzy. I’m afraid I’ll have to trouble you to rest alone tonight.”
“Ah?”
White Chuchu looked up, startled, but soon understood. The Princess Consort was the Empress’s niece. The struggle among the princes and the harem was fierce right now. If His Highness wished to rise higher, he needed the Empress’s support. He couldn’t let the Princess Consort lose too much face. Of course, he couldn’t consummate with her, not tonight.
“Your Highness’s health is most important. I’m not wronged. Allow me to serve you as you rest.” White Chuchu rose, her gaze tender as spring water, her voice soft and delicate, even more demure than before.
He had chosen to come to Qinghui Pavilion tonight—surely that meant he liked her more. She couldn’t afford to overreach. As long as she kept his affection, what couldn’t she get later? Endure the small to win the great.
Lin Zhuo glanced at her and smiled faintly. He reached out and patted her shoulder gently. “You’re a good girl. The future is long—there’s no need to rush one night.”
“Yes, I understand,” she said demurely.
Her shy, gentle expression made Lin Zhuo’s heart stir slightly. His tone softened. “Good. Your name is Chuchu, right? Truly as your name suggests—charming and delicate. My father—”
Before he could finish, footsteps sounded outside. Lin Zhuo frowned. “Who is it?”
“Your Highness, it’s… the Princess Consort’s maid. She says she carries a message from Her Ladyship and must deliver it personally.”
Lin Zhuo’s brows arched. That woman dares to send someone here? Hmm, unlikely she’s clever enough for that. More likely she’s just unwilling to swallow the humiliation and wants to cause a scene. If she truly is that foolish, he’d best keep his distance in the future.
“Your Highness…” White Chuchu clutched his sleeve, her voice trembling slightly. “Will the Princess Consort misunderstand me? Think that I…”
“Don’t worry,” Lin Zhuo patted her hand reassuringly. “I’ll handle it. It’s late, and you’ve had a long day. Get some rest. Tomorrow will come early.”
“Yes, I understand.”
Leaning against the doorframe, White Chuchu watched him descend the steps. Under the glow of the red lanterns, her face still held a trace of fear—but deep within her limpid eyes, a flash of vicious resentment gleamed and vanished.
(End of Chapter)