Chapter 4

Chapter 4

I didn’t make it out.

There was no way the “Chosen Princess Consort,” a title personally bestowed by the Queen, was going to leave the palace alive.

As I was ushered upstairs by a crowd of attendants, a sharp wail erupted behind me. Cen Wenxi had somehow managed to seize an opportunity to try on the slippers. In her desperation, she had pulled out her hairpin in front of everyone, intending to slice her own heels to fit.

Blood splattered across the floor.

Li Xinglan merely spared her a fleeting, indifferent glance before ordering her to be dragged away for medical treatment. She then commanded the internal affairs officer to grant Madam Ji two boxes of gold.

When I looked back, I saw Madam Ji kneeling on the ground, kowtowing and offering a stream of gratitude. The joy on her face was far more genuine than the blood Cen Wenxi had shed.

In that moment, I understood everything.

She hadn’t spent all those years grinding me into the dirt because she hated me.

She did it because she had known all along that the Royal Palace wanted a girl exactly like me.

I didn’t need to be breathtakingly beautiful or conspicuously clever. I just needed to be pale enough, thin enough, and obedient enough-like an object that had been carefully groomed and was ready to be placed on the sacrificial altar at any moment.

On my first night in the palace, I was moved into the White Tower on the east side. The tower was draped everywhere with gold-embroidered silk hangings, and the bed was so soft it felt like it could swallow a person whole. But every time I closed my eyes, I thought of the girls who had suddenly vanished.

The next day, I saw a row of portraits in the gallery.

The women in the paintings were all wearing the Princess Consort’s Ceremonial Dress, and they looked to be about my age. They stood in the palace gardens, their feet encased in the same pair of Glass Slippers, but their faces had been repeatedly slashed with something sharp. All that remained was a blurred, white void.

I asked the Palace Maid leading the way who they were.

Her face turned pale with fright, and she quickly lowered her head. “Old paintings. They are bad luck. Please don’t look, miss.”

She hurried away after speaking, as if staying a moment longer would invite disaster.

Toward evening, Su Zhichuan arrived.

He had changed into black casual robes and carried medicine and bandages, seemingly coming specifically to tend to the wounds on my feet.

I curled into the corner of the daybed, refusing to let him touch me. “What exactly are you trying to do?”

“Save you,” he said.

I let out a cold laugh. “The rumors outside say the first six girls died at your hands.”

His movements paused for a second before he reached down to unbuckle my shoes. “They didn’t die at my hands. They died before my eyes.”

My entire body went stiff.

He acted as if he hadn’t noticed my reaction, keeping his eyes downcast as he changed my dressings. As the snow-white gauze wrapped around my ankle, I noticed numerous small scars on the back of his hand, looking as if they had been repeatedly cut by shards of broken glass.

“Listen closely,” he whispered. “Starting tonight, no matter what you hear, do not open your door. Above all, do not let anyone take you to the Mirror Hall.”

“What if the Queen wants to take me there?”

He looked up at me, his dark eyes devoid of even a flicker of light.

“Then find a way to stay alive until the Thirteenth Bell Toll,” he said. “That is the last moment you will have to escape.”