Chapter 1
On the night of the empress’s funeral, His Majesty forced me to remain with him all night in a side hall of Fengyi Palace.
The Buddhist chanting in Baohua Hall had not yet fallen silent. My aunt had only been buried that day.
And already, I had slept with her husband.
I clutched the brocade bedding beneath me, weeping and shaking my head.
“Your Majesty, I’m not my aunt… I’m Shanwu…”
But Yuan Zhaoyu seemed to have lost his mind.
“Call me Wulang.”
I turned my face away, but he seized my chin and forced me to look back at him.
“Say it.”
I could not break free. Nor did I dare try.
A useless man like the crown prince, deprived of the empress’s protection, would sooner or later be dragged out of the Eastern Palace.
And he hated me so much that he would scarcely spare me a glance.
Why should I let myself die trapped there?
At that thought, I finally closed my eyes and whispered hoarsely,
“Wulang…”
That night, Yuan Zhaoyu lost all control and made me call him Wulang until morning.
As dawn approached, I climbed off the couch, supporting my aching waist.
His dragon robe and my plain mourning clothes lay tangled in a heap beside it.
I looked down at the marks on my body and gave a quiet laugh.
After this one night, I would probably be the whore cursed by everyone in Chang’an.
So what?
I had never had much of a way out anyway.
While my aunt was alive, she had always wanted me to become crown princess.
She often said I was the steadiest of my generation in the Meng family.
Unlike my male cousins, who cared only for cockfighting and riding, or my shortsighted female cousins.
So from the age of thirteen, she often summoned me to the palace.
I was to study, play chess, and practice calligraphy with the crown prince.
Little by little, she hoped to nurture the affection of a young married couple between us.
But Yuan Xiujin did not like me.
More precisely, he looked down on the Meng family.
The coarse Mengs had possessed no more than a county marquisate in Qishan before His Majesty took the throne.
We were relatives who had risen on the empress’s connections, with none of Chang’an’s refinement.
My aunt always thought that if she remained a virtuous empress and endured a little longer, everything would pass.
She could not be bothered with the other consorts’ secret schemes for favor.
Again and again, Yuan Xiujin defied her over the Yao woman.
She would merely sigh. “He’s still young.”
She kept hoping that once I became crown princess and the Meng family’s position was secure, everything would improve.
Yet even while she lived, Yuan Xiujin had never shown the Mengs the slightest regard.
Whenever a Meng woman appeared,
he would frown. “Reeking of powder and rouge. It gives me a headache.”
When several of my older male cousins sent calling cards to the Eastern Palace, he immediately ordered them thrown out.
He even sneered in front of his advisers. “What can the Mengs do except climb through their women?”
With me, he did not bother to conceal his disgust.
My aunt often kept me at Fengyi Palace for short visits. Nine times out of ten, he greeted me with a cold face.
When I poured his tea, he complained it was too hot.
When I ground his ink, he said its scent was too strong.
Eventually, he would not even use anything I had touched.
At the autumn hunt two years ago, my aunt specifically sent me to bring him a cloak.
I rode halfway around a mountain before I finally found him.
The moment he saw me, Yuan Xiujin’s face darkened. “Who gave you permission to come?”
“My aunt was worried about Your Highness,” I explained. “She sent me to bring you a cloak.”
He cut me off. “Just because my mother likes you doesn’t mean I do.”
“Meng Shanwu, you had better remember your place.”
Then, right in front of me, he casually tossed the fox-fur cloak into the fire.
He had treated me that way while my aunt still lived.
How much worse would it be now?