18
Yu Shu fell silent. She couldn’t explain to Mu Liangzhe that her greatest problem was precisely her beautiful face.
“On the day after tomorrow, you’ll accompany me to celebrate Grand Princess Changping’s birthday. Make sure to dress elegantly and speak sweetly—leave a lasting impression on her at first sight.” After a string of instructions, Mu Liangzhe added a final warning, “Don’t even think of making excuses to skip this. If you ruin this matter, even if you’re my sister, I won’t let you off easily.”
It might have sounded like an ordinary warning, but the memories Yu Shu had inherited from the original host reminded her not to test Mu Liangzhe’s temper lightly. He was not a man to be trifled with, and provoking his anger would lead to dire consequences.
With a flat tone, Yu Shu could only reply, “Understood.”
“Good. You may leave now. I still have matters to discuss with Lian Sheng.” Seeing her compliance, Mu Liangzhe said no more and dismissed her.
After leaving Mu Liangzhe’s presence, Yu Shu walked away in low spirits. She had no desire to attend Grand Princess Changping’s birthday banquet.
In her past life, Grand Princess Changping had never liked her—and of course, the feeling had been mutual. No one would willingly cherish a person who despised them.
When she was still the Ninth Princess of the Dayan Dynasty, there had been a time when she agonized over why the Grand Princess disliked her so much.
Eventually, she came to understand.
At first, it was because she was a princess—the most beloved daughter of the Emperor and Empress. But the Xiao family had never wanted Xiao Jingyao to marry into royalty. A man of his brilliance, if unshackled by a royal marriage, could achieve far greater things, unleashing his full potential. Taking a princess as his wife would only cripple his future. That was why Grand Princess Changping resented her.
Later, when Marquis Xiao died fighting the Northern Lu invaders on the northwestern frontier, the entire Xiao family was falsely accused of treason. Her father, the Emperor, threw them all into the imperial dungeons. Only Xiao Jingyao, pleading to redeem his family’s honor, dragged his wounded body back to the battlefield to repel the Northern Lu.
Though he ultimately triumphed, by then, most of the Xiao family imprisoned in the dungeons had been murdered by their enemies. Only Grand Princess Changping, a nephew, and a niece survived.
That was the breaking point—the reason Xiao Jingyao eventually turned against her father.
With such blood-soaked hatred between them, how could Grand Princess Changping ever look upon her with anything but loathing? The mere sight of her must have made the Grand Princess want to scream curses in her face, to seize a blade and strike her head from her shoulders! Even her death, perhaps, would never be enough to quench that fury.
Now she had transmigrated into the Ninth Princess of Xijiang—a new identity, yet with the exact same face. Even if Grand Princess Changping could be convinced they weren’t the same person, liking her would still be a stretch.
And the truth no one knew? She was still herself—only in a different body!
Yu Shu couldn’t delude herself into thinking she could ever win the Grand Princess’s favor. That would be harder than scaling the heavens!
But the greater challenge wasn’t just facing Grand Princess Changping—it was Xiao Jingyao. That was what truly made her blood run cold.
If she slipped up in front of him… given his temperament, would he ever let her go?
The mere thought of it was enough to make her shudder.
A gust of wind swept through the courtyard. The day was bright, the sun radiant—yet Yu Shu felt an inexplicable chill. She wrapped her arms tightly around herself.
A leaf spiraled down from the sky, and Yu Shu watched as it drifted aimlessly before settling on the nearby rockery.
Wait—what was that? Her gaze sharpened on a faint marking beside the leaf, something etched into the stone that looked hauntingly familiar.
She stepped closer. With each footfall, the symbol became clearer—it was a contact signal, identical to the ones she used.
Someone had finally reached out to her!
The gloom that had weighed upon her heart moments ago dissolved into quiet elation.
Suddenly, hope flickered to life. Though the road ahead remained shrouded in uncertainty, persistence would carve a path forward. Yu Shu clenched her fist, a silent vow solidifying within her.
She needed to find whoever had left the mark—but who could it be?
Yu Shu mentally reviewed possible candidates, yet none stood out as certain. Observation and patience—she decided to wait like a hunter by a tree stump, ready for her prey to come to her.
That night, after dismissing Qingli and the other maids under the pretense of rest, she slipped out unnoticed.
Her path led back to the rockery, where she concealed herself in the shadows, watching.
Time crawled. The night deepened. She waited for over an hour—long past the signal’s agreed time—but no one came.
Why didn’t they come? Yu Shu felt a pang of disappointment, but fearing prolonged stay might draw unwanted attention, she reluctantly returned to her quarters.
Sleep eluded her that night. Her mind raced—who had left the mark? Why arrange a meeting only to break it?
Yet answers remained elusive, leaving her no choice but to continue waiting.
Two uneventful days passed. The mysterious contact never appeared, and before she knew it, the day of Grand Princess Changping’s birthday banquet arrived.
On the morning of the celebration, Mu Liangze sent servants to hasten Yu Shu’s preparations, stressing that “this affair brooks no delay.”
Gone were her usual casual robes. Today, she had to don traditional Xijiang attire. Qingli presented several options, and Yu Shu finally selected a crimson dress paired with a deep purple veil—one that shrouded her face completely, leaving only her eyes exposed.
Eyes like polished obsidian—luminous, expressive, their striking contrast of black against white sparkling with vitality—glistened above the crimson veil. They moved with a gemstone’s captivating brilliance, the only visible feature of her otherwise concealed face.
“Your Highness, the Third Prince inquires if you are prepared to depart,” a maid’s voice interrupted from beyond the door.
Yu Shu exhaled in quiet resignation. With Mu Liangze’s relentless surveillance, attending Grand Princess Changping’s banquet had become inevitable.
“Ready,” she acknowledged flatly, rising from her seat with the grace of someone walking to an execution.
Mu Liangze waited at the courtyard’s entrance, his critical gaze sweeping over her appearance before granting a nod of approval. “To the carriage,” he commanded tersely. “We depart.”
A muted “Mm” was her only reply as she accepted Qingli’s steadying hand into the ornately lacquered carriage.
The procession moved with ceremonial precision—Mu Liangze astride his stallion at the lead, flanked by armored guards, followed by the slow-rolling carriage leaving the diplomatic quarters. Dust rose in golden plumes beneath the morning sun, marking their passage toward an encounter Yu Shu would have given anything to avoid.
As the esteemed aunt of the Great Xia Emperor, Grand Princess Changping occupied a lavish estate adjacent to the imperial palace—some distance from the diplomatic quarters where Yu Shu resided.
The carriage rolled steadily through the bustling streets, the journey stretching longer than expected. Through the thin curtains, the lively cries of street vendors and the mouthwatering aroma of various snacks drifted in, making Yu Shu’s stomach growl in protest.
She pressed a hand to her abdomen, frowning. She hadn’t eaten much that morning, and once they arrived at the princess’s estate, the sheer number of guests and formalities would make a proper meal impossible. At such banquets, no one truly ate their fill—everyone would be too busy maintaining decorum and restraint. What a pointless affair.
“Qingli,” she whispered, tugging at her maid’s sleeve, “did you bring any food?”
“Of course.” Qingli, ever prepared, produced two small pouches—one filled with Xijiang-style dried meat, the other with four or five palm-sized flatbreads. Each piece was just large enough to pair with a thumb-sized strip of jerky, making for a satisfying, if modest, snack.
Qingli poured Yu Shu a cup of water, and she began eating with relish—alternating bites of the flatbread with strips of savory jerky, the simple fare somehow tasting exquisite in her hunger.
Why has the carriage stopped?
Just as she finished one piece of bread and took a sip of water, the sudden halt nearly made her spill her drink. Beside her, Qingli swayed unsteadily before righting herself.
“I’ll find out what’s happening,” the maid said, lifting the carriage curtain to step outside.
Yu Shu waited in silence until Qingli returned with an explanation: “The lane ahead is jammed. With so many guests arriving for Grand Princess Changping’s celebration, the carriages are gridlocked near the entrance. They say even the Emperor of Great Xia has come—everyone’s making way for him. We’ll have to wait until his procession passes.”
A faint crease formed between Yu Shu’s brows. Xiao Jingyao is here.
Of course he would be. The Grand Princess was, after all, one of the few remaining elders of his family.
After a prolonged pause, their carriage lurched forward again, inching along with the diplomatic entourage until they finally arrived.
As the wheels came to a stop, Yu Shu adjusted her veil, ensuring it was securely fastened. “Does everything look proper?” she murmured to Qingli.
Assured there were no imperfections, she took a steadying breath and stepped out.
**