"Ugh—"
Whether Shen Jinglan was frightened by these words or something else, he spat out a mouthful of blood and fell into a dead faint.
"Enough!" The Empress yawned upon seeing the man collapse, then lay back down on her noble consort's couch. "I am weary as well. Since you fancy him, your great-grandaunt will grant him to you."
Turning to Wen Ruochu, her tone shifted sharply. "However, this man dared to cause a disturbance at the palace banquet and even injured you. His death sentence is commuted, but you must not elevate him too highly. Take him back and discipline him well—make him a male concubine. Do not speak of betrothal again!"
"Yes! Thank you for your grace, Your Majesty!" Wen Ruochu breathed a sigh of relief.
Finally, she would not be made into a human pig.
The next day, at Boyanghoufu, Canglan Yuan.
Shen Jinglan lay on the bed with his eyes tightly shut. A ray of morning light filtered through the gaps in the window lattice, casting a warm golden glow over his handsome face, even seeming to soften the cold, aloof aura that clung to him.
Wen Ruochu propped her chin on her hand, sitting by the bedside, staring at the sleeping Shen Jinglan.
No wonder the Empress had taken a liking to him at first sight—this appearance… tsk tsk, he was simply breathtakingly beautiful.
Shen Jinglan was exceptionally gifted, sent to Shangjing as a hostage prince at the age of eight, unloved by both father and mother.
In recent years, relations between Yongguo and Dayu had fluctuated between good and bad, and the Yongguo court was fractured. Naturally, Shen Jinglan's prolonged stay in Shangjing meant his circumstances were far from favorable.
In earlier years, people would still respectfully address him as Young Lord Shen, but in recent times, anyone in Shangjing could trample on him.
Fortunately, she had transmigrated in time—the little white flower had not yet evolved into a man-eating bloom.
After a while, the sleeping man furrowed his brow, instinctively raising a hand to shield his eyes from the sunlight, and slowly opened them.
In a hoarse voice, he asked, "Where is this?"
The room was fresh and elegant, the bed curtains embroidered with exquisite, intricate patterns. A cluster of pale purple hydrangeas sat in a celadon vase on the bedside cabinet—clearly the boudoir of a young lady from a prominent household.
His gaze shifted back, and upon seeing the person sitting by the bed, his expression changed instantly as if he had seen a vengeful ghost. He struggled to sit up.
"You—"
Wen Ruochu grabbed Shen Jinglan by the shoulders and shoved him back onto the bed with a single slap.
"Don't move. This is my room. Your wounds have already been treated by the household physician, and I've had your clothes changed into new ones."
A maidservant brought over a bowl of soup. Wen Ruochu turned to take it, scooped up a spoonful, blew on it gently, and brought it to Shen Jinglan's lips.
"Open wide, ah."
Shen Jinglan's brows knitted into a deep furrow, his fists clenched tightly, his face full of wariness.
The two stared at each other for a moment. Wen Ruochu was not a patient person—apart from her parents, no one had ever received such meticulous care from her. If it weren't for the fact that she had transmigrated into this unlucky cannon fodder's body and owed him a debt, this bowl of soup would have long been splashed across Shen Jinglan's face.
Wen Ruochu ground her teeth silently, then turned the spoon around and drank it herself.
"It's not poisoned."
Shen Jinglan looked at Wen Ruochu with suspicion.
The young woman wore a light blue round-collar dress with a crossover neckline, her dark hair swept up in a bun. Her skin was as white as snow, her willow-leaf brows arched in a playful curve, her eyes bright and lively, sparkling like stars, with a pleasant smile curling at the corners of her lips.
County Princess Wen Ruochu was known for being domineering and overbearing, and rumor had it her private life was utterly chaotic—birds of a feather with the Dayu Emperor.
He was merely a hostage prince of low status from an enemy nation. Why would Wen Ruochu, noble as a county princess, go out of her way to please him like this?
Suspicion stirred in Shen Jinglan's heart, yet looking through Wen Ruochu's eyes, he could see there was no hostility in her now.
Sensing that the sharp, standoffish edge radiating from Shen Jinglan was gradually receding, Wen Ruochu patiently brought the spoon closer to his lips again.
"Try it?"
Shen Jinglan lowered his head, hesitating for a long moment. "I'll eat it myself."
Just as the soup bowl was about to be handed to Shen Jinglan, Wen Ruochu noticed the thick gauze wrapped around his wrist.
The first thing that had been done after Shen Jinglan was captured alive was to sever his tendons and meridians. For a martial artist, having one's meridians severed was no different from being an ordinary person. Last night, when the household physician had bandaged him, he had said that although Shen Jinglan's hands and feet could still move, he had no strength and would need to recuperate for some time.
In the book, after the Empress severed Shen Jinglan's meridians, it was Wen Qingrou who happened to obtain an alchemical pill from a wandering healer, helping Shen Jinglan reconnect his meridians. That pill was called the Jade Bone Pill.
Once his injuries were healed, they could go their separate ways and never cross paths again.
Wen Ruochu's eyes curved with a smile as she brought the soup bowl back. "Let me feed you after all. Don't worry—I've already sent people to search for a pill that can reconnect meridians. It won't be long before you can recover your martial arts."
The spoon was the one Wen Ruochu had just used, but Shen Jinglan didn't ask for a replacement. He accepted the spoon from her hand, opened his mouth, and swallowed the soup.
Before half the bowl was finished, Nanny Wang announced from behind the door curtain, "County Princess, Prince Rui has arrived. The Master asks you to come to the front hall."
It was her future husband who had come.
"Understood. Let them wait for now." Wen Ruochu said coldly, showing none of the previous excitement she would have felt upon hearing that Prince Rui had arrived.
Nanny Wang was puzzled. Every time she announced Prince Rui's arrival, she would receive a reward of money. Why was there none today? After delivering the message, she left, looking back with every few steps.
Only after Wen Ruochu had fed Shen Jinglan the sweet soup and seen him settled down to sleep did she make her way to the front hall. Her cheap father was already gone, leaving only Ling Xuanche, who was growing impatient from waiting, and Wen Qingrou.
Wen Qingrou wore a pale pink silk skirt, a golden step-shaking hairpin nestled in her hair, her slender brows and eyes lending her an even more delicate air. Though she was the younger sister, she somehow appeared more mature than Wen Ruochu.
Wen Qingrou was Wen Ruochu's half-sister by a concubine, and the female lead of the novel.
Wen Ruochu's birth mother had fallen ill and died shortly after giving birth to her. Unable to bear his wife's sudden passing, her father, Boyang Marquis Wen Chengde, requested leave from the capital to serve as prefect of Youyang. During his tenure, he took Concubine Bai as his concubine, who gave birth to Wen Qingrou. After his term ended, Wen Chengde returned to the capital.
Wen Qingrou had been frail since childhood, so mother and daughter remained in Youyang, only returning five years ago.
Wen Qingrou lowered her eyes in meek deference and respectfully curtsied to Wen Ruochu.
"Greetings, elder sister."
Xuanche-gege had told her that he was long tired of Wen Ruochu, that it was Wen Ruochu who kept clinging to him shamelessly.
This Wen Ruochu, wanton and dissolute, had actually dared to keep a male concubine in secret—she had already reported the matter to Xuanche-gege in full detail.
Xuanche-gege would surely use this to cast off Wen Ruochu, and then she could be openly together with Xuanche-gege.
The position of Prince Rui's consort had always been hers.
The maidservants and servants kept their heads bowed. The atmosphere in the front hall was strange and oppressive, like the stillness before a storm.
As Wen Ruochu entered and sensed the tension in the air, she immediately caught the smug delight hidden beneath Wen Qingrou's demure facade—the look of someone anticipating good fortune. She didn't need to guess what her sister had done.
In the novel, Wen Ruochu adored Ling Xuanche, giving him her whole heart, yet he used her as a stepping stone, leveraging her influence to scheme for the throne. In the end, he and Wen Qingrou became emperor and empress in perfect harmony, while Wen Ruochu was cast aside, bearing the infamy of plotting to usurp power.
But Wen Ruochu had transmigrated into this body—she was no one's lovesick fool for Ling Xuanche.
She rather wanted to see how Ling Xuanche would confront her now that he'd learned she kept a male concubine.