The flame on the wedding candles crackled, bursting into a tiny spark of light.
The entire room was drenched in red, warm and festive.
Yet Ye An’an’s heart felt as cold as the bitter “third-nine” winter days outside.
With a heavy phoenix crown weighing down her head and layers of suffocating, ornate wedding robes wrapped around her, she had been sitting upright since the afternoon ceremony. Her waist felt like it was about to snap.
And the result?
Forget the groom—the Crown Prince.
She hadn’t even seen a ghost of him.
Ye An’an rolled her eyes so hard she nearly saw the back of her skull.
Transmigrating was one thing. But arriving straight into a grand, arranged marriage scene—and starting off as an unloved secondary consort of the Crown Prince?
Fantastic.
“Your Highness, are you hungry? Should… should this servant go to the small kitchen and get you something to eat?”
Her senior maid, Chen Zhu, lowered her voice, worry laced through every word.
Ye An’an didn’t respond.
She was busy sorting through the memories of this body.
It was said that the Crown Prince, Xiao Jingshi, was cold and abstinent, peerlessly handsome—like a bright moon in the heavens, distant and untouchable.
It was also said that he already had someone in his heart—a refined, gentle young lady, well-versed in literature and etiquette.
As for the original owner of this body? The complete opposite. A spoiled young miss doted on by her father, the Great General. Because she was crazily infatuated with the Crown Prince, she had begged her father to use his distinguished military merits to petition the Emperor for the position of Crown Prince’s secondary consort.
Her foolish father had even written repeatedly in his letter to apologize for not being capable enough to secure the position of principal consort for his precious daughter, saying she had been wronged.
From the very beginning, this marriage had been the laughingstock of the entire capital.
On the wedding night, the Crown Prince’s secondary consort was left alone in the bridal chamber.
She could already imagine that by tomorrow morning, the news would sprout wings and fly through the entire palace. Ye An’an was destined to become the year’s top gossip headline of the imperial harem.
“Your Highness?” Chen Zhu called again, her voice trembling. “Please don’t be upset. Perhaps His Highness was delayed by urgent affairs. He might come later.”
The other maid, Fu Yun, paced anxiously. “Yes, yes! His Highness surely didn’t mean it. Please wait a little longer. Don’t remove the phoenix crown or your makeup. If His Highness suddenly arrives, it would be improper…”
“That’s enough.” Ye An’an finally spoke, her throat dry from not drinking water all day. “Stop spinning. You’re making me dizzy.”
She shifted her aching neck, feeling like the phoenix crown might snap her spine at any moment.
“Wait? If I keep waiting, I’ll fossilize.” She tugged at her lips. In her previous life, she had worked overtime until she dropped dead. Now that she’d finally reincarnated into the privileged class, she had no intention of mistreating herself for even one more second.
“Chen Zhu, help me up.”
“Your Highness, this… this breaks the rules! What if—”
“If he comes, I’ll just put it back on,” Ye An’an cut them off impatiently. “Relax. He’s not coming. A man rumored to be a clean freak with a ‘white moonlight’ in his heart—how could he willingly touch the ‘trouble’ in his eyes? Hurry up and get this stuff off me. I’m starving!”
As if on cue, her stomach growled loudly.
All day long, she had been like a puppet on strings—dressed and made up, escorted into the palace, meeting Emperor Xiao Yuanzheng and Empress Wei, enduring endless rituals, and being stared at like a circus monkey by various princess consorts and noble ladies.
Especially the Princess Consort of Prince Jing—her tone had been dripping with sarcasm, her airs higher than anyone else’s.
After all that, Ye An’an hadn’t eaten a single grain of rice. She was starving.
Chen Zhu and Fu Yun exchanged helpless looks, but ultimately couldn’t resist her.
They hurriedly removed the phoenix crown and stripped away layer after layer of heavy wedding robes.
When the final restraint was undone, Ye An’an let out a long breath, feeling as though she had come back to life.
She grabbed a soft night robe, threw it over herself, and flopped onto the nearby chaise lounge with a satisfied hum.
“Fu Yun, check the small kitchen and see what’s there. Anything is fine—just make it hot. I’m about to starve into a paper-thin ghost.”
“Yes, Your Highness!” Fu Yun replied and ran off.
Chen Zhu quietly began folding the priceless wedding garments, sighing as she did so, her face scrunched like a bitter melon.
Ye An’an found it amusing. She picked up an apple from the table and took a loud crunching bite.
“What are you worrying about? The sky hasn’t fallen.”
“But Your Highness,” Chen Zhu said anxiously, “you are the Crown Prince’s consort. On the very first night… Who knows how people will talk? How will you live in the palace from now on?”
“Let them talk. Their mouths are theirs—what can I do?” Ye An’an took another bite, speaking through a mouthful of apple. “As long as I eat well and live comfortably, that’s all that matters.”
She understood the situation perfectly.
The Emperor had bestowed her upon the Crown Prince as part of imperial strategy—using her father’s military power to consolidate the Crown Prince’s position. And the Crown Prince, the future wise ruler, was probably stifled at being treated like a pawn.
So his absence? Completely normal.
Rather than wallowing in self-pity, she might as well think about what to eat tomorrow morning.
She’d heard the Eastern Palace’s small kitchen had abundant ingredients. That was excellent news.
Soon, Fu Yun returned with a tray holding a steaming bowl of chicken noodle soup.
“Your Highness, this was all that remained in the kitchen. Please have this to fill your stomach.”
“This is more than enough!” Ye An’an’s eyes lit up as she sat upright immediately.
The rich aroma of chicken broth wafted up. The soup was clear and golden, with a few bright green vegetables floating on top, a round fried egg nestled in the center, its edges slightly crisp. The noodles were hand-pulled, looking delightfully chewy.
She didn’t even wait for it to cool before slurping up a mouthful.
Mm. The noodles were smooth, carrying the fragrance of wheat. The broth was flavorful but a little mild. If only there were some pepper and a spoonful of chili oil—it would be perfect.
Still, on this late, hungry night, a bowl of hot soup noodles was already a tremendous comfort.
She ate quickly, finishing every last drop.
Full and warm, drowsiness washed over her. She let out a delicate yawn.
“That’s enough. Don’t just stand there. Put out the lights. We’re sleeping!”
She waved her hand and walked toward the enormous bridal bed, strewn with peanuts, longans, and red dates.
Chen Zhu and Fu Yun exchanged glances but obediently extinguished most of the candles, leaving only two dim wall lamps before retreating outside to keep watch.
Lying on the soft bed, breathing in the faint fragrance of incense, Ye An’an felt none of a new bride’s nervousness. Instead, she felt grounded—settled.
No consummation? Perfect. She had no interest in dealing with a strange man anyway.
As for the gossip? Hah. When had Ye An’an ever been afraid of that?
Starting tomorrow, she would live differently.
Closing her eyes, she began making plans.
The palace food was far too bland. That wouldn’t do. She’d have to take matters into her own hands.
Tomorrow morning, she would start with a deluxe jianbing—extra sausage, extra egg, fully loaded!
Yes. That settled it.