The Qin Prince’s residence was guarded with extreme strictness, inside and out.
The autumn air was crisp and refreshing.
Gu Qinglu lay leisurely in the rear garden, savoring the osmanthus cakes and tea the nanny had brought her.
She reclined lazily on a chaise lounge, her delicate face tilted slightly to the side, a pair of almond-shaped eyes half-lidded.
Gu Qinglu felt lost. Anyone would, encountering something this bizarre for the first time.
She had died—yet lived again.
More precisely, her soul had attached itself to another person’s body.
Even stranger, aside from being two years younger than her original self, this body was identical in appearance and build.
Even the name was the same.
Tell me—wasn’t that uncanny?
But according to the nanny, the original owner of this body had been a fool—of unknown origin—stuffed into the Prince’s residence by the emperor and the Grand Princess to bring “joyful fortune.”
How could she not be foolish? On her wedding night, when she lifted the veil and saw how handsome her husband was, she became so overjoyed she couldn’t catch her breath.
And died.
Truly unlucky—almost as tragic as Gu Qinglu herself, who had died from her own gu poison.
Gu Qinglu thought to herself that if they had met earlier, she might have sworn sisterhood with that little fool.
That said, the man really was handsome.
She had seen countless striking young men in the Miao territories, but when she saw that man’s face, she had to admit—she had indeed harbored impure thoughts.
Of course, those thoughts existed only in her imagination.
After she let his blood, a group of people carried him away.
The nanny politely invited her back to her chambers to rest.
It was then she learned that the man was a prince.
A pillar of the Central Plains, of the Xiao royal clan—the Qin Prince, His Highness.
That knowledge immediately dispelled her earlier thought of abducting him. The imperial family of the Central Plains would never entangle itself with Miao territory.
All of this reminded her again and again—
She was not dreaming.
Nor was she dead.
She had miraculously survived by borrowing another person’s body.
Yet she remembered her past with perfect clarity—especially the moment she mistakenly ingested gu poison. The agony of her organs tearing apart and melting, the pain worse than death itself—she remembered every bit of it.
But she had no memories at all of the “foolish princess consort” the nanny spoke of.
Oh—there was one scene.
The original owner lifting her bridal veil, seeing the man’s handsome face—
And failing to catch her breath.
Dead.
“Princess Consort, the wind’s picked up. Please cover yourself with this cloak.”
The nanny draped a cloak gently over her shoulders.
Gu Qinglu came back to herself and lifted her eyes slightly, glancing at the overly respectful nanny.“What year of the Great Yong is it now?”
The nanny pinched her fingers nervously, shot her a quick glance, then bowed and replied,“The twenty-fourth day of the ninth month, Great Yong, Year Fourteen.”
Then that meant she had been dead for two years.
Her tribe must already have a new Saintess by now.
That meant she no longer had to obey that old crone’s vow—‘The Saintess of Miao may never leave the valley.’
The thought of going to the desert, the northern frontier, the eastern lands, Jiangnan—
Gu Qinglu grew excited.
Excited—but powerless.
This body had no strength at all.
Forget wielding a blade—running a few steps left her gasping for breath.
From the capital to the desert was thousands of li.
Carriages, horses, traveling on foot…
Along the way there would be inspections by soldiers, expenses for silver, horses—and most importantly, her own safety.
All of it was a problem.
She rolled her eyes, and suddenly had an idea.
She could use her cheap husband’s power.
He was a prince—that Xiao Xingcang.
She was now certain that letting his gu blood had worked. Everyone in this Prince’s residence needed her.
From now on, she would certainly be fed and served well.
Judging by her observation, the poison in that man had been there for at least two years.
That he had lived until now meant his life was tough.
And lucky—lucky to have met her.
Without those few needles and bloodletting, he would have been lying in a prepared coffin that very night.
She saved him.
Borrowing his power in return—nothing could be more fitting.
Once she thought this through, Gu Qinglu felt instantly at ease.
She took a sip of tea and asked,
“Nanny, if the Prince can get up and move around, can he go wherever he wants?”
The nanny had seen her eyes darting about earlier. This sudden question made her uneasy.
Unsure of Gu Qinglu’s intentions, she bowed slightly and answered,
“Not everywhere. His Highness is burdened with military and governmental affairs, and must attend court.”
Gu Qinglu nodded. As a royal prince, he was indeed busy.
Everything depended on his decisions—she understood that.
Miao territory was the same; many matters required her judgment every day.
Seeing Gu Qinglu fall into thought again, the nanny nervously added,
“Princess Consort, if you’re feeling stifled, this old servant can take you to feed the fish.”
Gu Qinglu smiled.
She knew the nanny had misunderstood—thinking she feared Gu Qinglu would pester Xiao Xingcang.
But feeding fish did interest her.
She wanted to confirm something.
“Then let’s go. We’ll feed the fish.”
After changing bodies, she didn’t know if she could still command small creatures.
Walking one ahead and one behind through the vast rear garden, Gu Qinglu’s gaze swept across every corner.
Rockeries and flowing water—structures unique to the Central Plains, which she had only seen in books. Ancient, solemn.
Passing beneath an osmanthus tree, she casually plucked a leaf, rubbed it between her fingers, brushing away the dust.
“Princess Consort, we’ve arrived.”
The nanny stopped before a pavilion, bowed, and gestured invitingly.
Gu Qinglu nodded slightly and stepped into the extended corridor.
Glancing at the koi startled into scattering, she raised her hand, placed the leaf to her lips, and lightly blew.
The next instant, a tuneless sound emerged.
The nanny turned, scanning the surroundings, then fixed her gaze on Gu Qinglu’s back.
She approached silently and stopped beside her, watching in confusion as Gu Qinglu blew on the leaf with closed eyes.
Suddenly, the melody shifted.
Gradually, it gained rhythm—though it was not music as one knew it.
Before long, every fish in the pond swam over.
Even birds flew in, perching atop the high courtyard walls.
More strangely still, the sea eagle—rarely seen—appeared above the Prince’s residence at that very moment.
The nanny looked around at the changes, then back at Gu Qinglu.
This was absolutely not the girl she had coaxed into the wedding ceremony with sugar figurines the night before.
Who, exactly, was she?
She could ease the Prince’s agony and stabilize his pulse.
She could summon beasts and birds.
Unable to discern friend from foe, the nanny gave Gu Qinglu a deep look, bowed slightly, and turned to leave.
The past two days had been far too harrowing.
Nothing more could be allowed to happen in the residence—she had to report this to the main courtyard immediately.
Walking briskly, the nanny had just reached the archway when a guard approached.
Clasping his fists, he said,“Nanny, His Highness wishes to see the Princess Consort. Please invite her over.”
The nanny opened her mouth, then said nothing.
She turned and looked from afar at the figure by the fish pond, then replied,
“Help the Princess Consort change clothes, then she’ll come. You may report back to His Highness.”
With that, she turned back to fetch Gu Qinglu.
Earlier she had wanted to rush off to report—but now she hesitated.
No matter what, the Princess Consort had saved the Prince’s life.
If His Highness ordered her execution…
What then?
She still hoped that once the Prince recovered fully, he would soon have an heir—only then could she face the founding emperor and empress with peace of mind.
Returning to the corridor by the pond, the nanny waited quietly until the sound ceased and Gu Qinglu opened those captivating eyes.
Then she reported gently,
“Princess Consort, His Highness has sent someone to invite you over. He wishes to speak with you. Please don’t be afraid.”
As Gu Qinglu opened her eyes, she immediately spotted the sea eagle atop the high wall.
Too small—nowhere near her golden eagle.
Hearing the nanny’s words, she withdrew her gaze.
If her guess was correct, that man had already woken up and must have been investigating her this whole time.
Let him investigate.
He wouldn’t find anything anyway.
She tossed the leaf into the pond, startling the fish, and said,
“Let’s go. I’ll see how well he’s recovered—whether he’s suitable for acupuncture to expel the gu.”
The moment the nanny heard this, she dropped to her knees, knocking her head to the ground.
“This old servant thanks the Princess Consort—thank you, Princess Consort!”
Seeing such sincerity, Gu Qinglu thought to herself that the bond between master and servant truly ran deep.
“Quickly, get up.”
Helping the nanny to her feet, Gu Qinglu stepped out first.
She had terms to negotiate.
And it had to be done quickly.