The day Lin Shu and Gu Yulan were wed was the very same day Lin Yao entered the Prince’s manor.
While the front courtyard was a scene of festive celebration, the back courtyard remained desolate and cold. Lin Yao had divided the silver she managed to get from Lady Chen into two portions: one was spent on clothes and jewelry with a little left over for herself, while the other was reserved for her mother.
“Yao’er, you are going to the Prince’s manor. The Duke’s estate can hardly compare to it. Once you are there, you’ll inevitably need money for expenses and bribes. Keep it all!”
“Mother, I’ve kept some for myself. This is for you—use it when you need it.”
“What use do I have for it? Take it back, or Mother will be truly angry…”
“Mother, honestly, this money isn’t just for you. It’s my fallback plan,” Lin Yao pleaded, half-persuading and half-acting like a spoiled child until her mother finally relented. “If I can’t survive in the Prince’s manor, I’ll need you to support me.”
Concubine Zhao gazed fixedly at Lin Yao, her eyes reddening. “Once you leave, I don’t know when we mother and daughter will see each other again.”
“Mother, perhaps I’ll win the Prince’s favor and can bring you to live there for a while. When that day comes, no one will dare bully us. We’ll eat whatever we want and wear whatever we like!” Lin Yao said with a smile.
Zhao nodded, smiling back. It was a beautiful dream—so beautiful she hardly dared imagine it.
After their farewell, Lin Yao instructed her only maid, Xiaxiang, to take good care of her mother before heading to the back courtyard. A sedan chair sent by the Prince’s manor was waiting. As she settled inside, the chair began its rhythmic swaying toward her new life.
Upon arrival, she was ushered through the back entrance. The Prince’s manor was far larger than the Lin estate, full of winding corridors. Peeking out, Lin Yao felt the place was undeniably palatial, yet it possessed a suffocating, deathly stillness.
After a long while, they reached a courtyard.
“Follow me to see the Princess Consort,” a woman’s voice said, devoid of emotion.
Lin Yao recognized her: Nanny Rong. She had once served the First Lady and was known for her ruthless, fierce temperament. Everyone in the household feared her.
Following Nanny Rong deeper into the complex, they passed through several gates before reaching the inner sanctuary. There, Lin Yao laid eyes on a woman of regal grace.
Prince Yu’s Consort, Lin Sianwan—the eldest daughter of the Duke’s estate and Lin Yao’s eldest sister.
Originally, this marriage wasn’t meant for Lin Sianwan. The Empress had sent countless women to the Prince’s side—beauties of all types—but the Prince remained unmoved, his devotion to Buddhism only growing firmer. In desperation, the Empress consulted a renowned Taoist priest.
The priest offered a solution: “Find a woman whose birth chart (Bazi) matches this exactly. Marry her into the manor, and she shall break the Prince’s vow of celibacy.”
The birth charts of all the noble daughters in the capital were sent to the Empress. The only perfect match was Lin Sianwan. Thus, this “heaven-sent fortune” fell upon her, making her the envy of all. Master Lin felt his prestige soar.
But was it truly a blessing for Sianwan?
Lin Yao recalled once glimpsing her cold elder sister staring at a calligraphy scroll with a rare, tender smile. She also remembered seeing her sister shed secret tears on her wedding day. Having been raised in seclusion, Lin Yao hadn’t interacted much with Sianwan, who was the epitome of a refined noblewoman—distant and taciturn. Seeing her now, she had gained an even more formidable aura.
“Big Sis—” Lin Yao swallowed the word and corrected herself. “Princess Consort.”
“Kneel,” Lin Sianwan said coldly.
Lin Yao froze. “What?”
“The Princess Consort told you to kneel, didn’t you hear?” Nanny Rong barked.
Lin Yao had no choice but to drop to her knees.
“This is the Prince’s manor. You must follow the rules, and the Princess’s word is the rule. You will kneel as long as she says, or there are other punishments waiting for you.” Nanny Rong lectured, clutching a whip in her hand. The message was clear: if Lin Yao collapsed, she would be lashed.
Was this a power play? Lin Yao wondered. In this manor, they weren’t sisters; one was a Consort, the other a concubine. One was the master, the other a servant. Her life was now in Sianwan’s hands, to be crushed at will.
Time crawled by. Lin Yao gritted her teeth. Her limbs began to tremble, and sweat soaked her clothes. Meanwhile, Lin Sianwan calmly sipped her tea.
Suddenly, a guard rushed in. “Princess, you summoned me?”
The guard’s gaze fell upon Lin Yao. He paused instinctively, swallowing hard. Sianwan followed his gaze.
Because of the sweat, Lin Yao’s pale face looked even more delicate. Her bitten lip and piteous state were the kind of sight that stirred a man’s darker instincts. Further down, her curves and slender waist—looking as though it might snap under a firm grip—marked her as a true temptress.
Seeing the guard’s reaction, Sianwan knew she had made the right choice. This guard was known for being a blockhead who understood nothing of romance, yet even he had “awakened” the moment he saw Lin Yao.
“It’s nothing. You may go,” Sianwan dismissed him.
The guard was confused but nodded. As he turned to leave, he couldn’t resist stealing one last glance at Lin Yao, feeling a restless itch in his heart.
Sianwan slowly set down her teacup. “Rise.”
Lin Yao exhaled, her strength vanishing as she slumped onto the floor. Even that limp, exhausted posture was unintentionally seductive. Even Nanny Rong found her captivating. The Nanny helped her up and sat her in a chair.
“Fourth Sister, I did not do that to be cruel,” the Princess said slowly.
Lin Yao wiped the sweat from her face, looking at her sister with speechless disbelief. If that wasn’t being cruel, then what was?
“My situation is no different from yours. Yesterday, I went to the palace, and by the Empress’s command, I knelt for two full hours,” Sianwan said, a deep, inescapable sorrow etched between her brows.
“Why?”
Sianwan gave a chilling smile. “Fourth Sister, it seems you don’t realize what we are facing.”
Lin Yao truly didn’t. She had no ambition to “break” the Prince’s vows or rise to power. Given what she knew of Lin Shu’s fate in her “previous life,” she only wanted to keep her head down and eventually find a way back to her mother.
“The Emperor will not name a prince without an heir as the Crown Prince. Prince Yu refuses to break his vows, the court is applying pressure, and the Emperor has lost his patience. Prince Duan, the son of the Noble Consort, is capable and well-liked; the Emperor is already leaning toward him.”
Sianwan continued, “The Empress had high hopes when I married in. But six months have passed, and the Prince hasn’t spared me a glance. The Empress is furious and uses any excuse to torment me. She gave me two months. If the Prince hasn’t broken his vow by then, I suspect a length of white silk will be sent for me to end my life.”
Lin Yao turned deathly pale. She suddenly remembered that in her previous life, the Princess Consort had “died of a sudden illness.” Was it not an illness at all?
“Fourth Sister, I have no way out. You are my last hope to save me,” Sianwan said, looking at her like a drowning woman.
Lin Yao felt it was absurd. If no one else could do it, how could she? Who was she to save anyone? “Princess, the Prince is devoted to the Buddha. How could I possibly make him break his vows?”
“I don’t care how you do it. But know this: if I die, I will take you with me. And your mother, Concubine Zhao—do you think she’ll survive in the Lin household if you’re gone? My mother may act like a devout Buddhist, but if I fall, she will carve the flesh off your mother’s bones piece by piece.”
Lin Yao’s face went white. Despite the summer heat, a soul-chilling cold wrapped around her. Her mother feared pain more than anything. Lin Yao hadn’t even given her a life of comfort yet; she could not let her suffer such a fate.