Chapter 1

Chapter 1

The Crown Prince and the Crown Princess were deeply in love, but I was the Crown Prince’s Side Consort.

The two of them were glued together all day long. When he drank tea, she poured it. When he handled official business, she ground his ink and attended him with his books. When he sought entertainment, she stayed by his side to ease his boredom.

Rumor had it that every concubine in the Eastern Palace envied the Crown Princess, Qin Yunnong. In truth, the only person in the Eastern Palace who envied her was my one good sister, Hu Liangdi.

“Yueying, I’m so jealous!”

“Yueying, why can’t I remember what the Crown Prince looks like?”

“Yueying, thank goodness I still have you in the Eastern Palace! Otherwise, I’d be the only unnecessary person here.”

Every time I heard things like that, I rolled my eyes so hard they nearly disappeared into the back of my head.

“Hu Mianmian! A person shouldn’t be such a walking spectacle!”

That was how I always lectured her. I had never envied anyone, because the Crown Prince did not love me, and I felt no affection for him either.

Besides, there were only three women in the Eastern Palace, myself included. One spent all day with him, and one spent all day clinging to me. I wasn’t losing out. And in any case, must a woman obtain a man’s love for her life to be considered worthwhile?

I never spoke of these feelings to anyone. No one would understand. A legitimate daughter of the illustrious Ruan Clan, born from the Chancellor’s Estate, was meant to don red bridal robes for the glory of her family. She was meant to be bound up high and admired by all. And what was I doing? Shutting myself inside my courtyard, never stepping out except to pay respects, terrified of running into the husband to whom my whole life had already been entrusted.

There was an unspeakable reason I did not want to see him. Though his love for the Crown Princess ran deep, out of consideration for my grandfather, the Chancellor, he still gave me, on the night I entered his household, the bridal chamber expected of him as a matter of formality.

But all the pride and dignity I possessed in this life were exhausted that day.

When night came, it was the bridal chamber he bestowed upon me.

Such matters were the most subtle and private bond between a man and a woman. No proper young lady under heaven was allowed to ask about them openly, yet what girl had not, on a clear moonlit night beneath sparse stars, hidden under her quilt and secretly imagined them until two clouds of red bloomed on her cheeks?

That day, I did not wait for my husband. I waited only for a man. A man reeking of alcohol, cold, unfamiliar, and full of aggression. I could not feel my own existence, as if I were only a flower plucked at will and torn apart.

For him, I wore layer upon layer of the most elaborate palace dress. Yet he came to my room in nothing but a sleeping robe with a cloak thrown over it. It was clear that someone magnanimously had “given” him to me.

I had seen his portrait before. Among the imperial clan, he was a rare and handsome gentleman, as dazzling as gold born together with jade. But at that moment, drunken red had climbed all the way up his neck, and his gaze was tinged with contempt and coldness, as if the immortal in the painting had been forcibly replaced by a demon.

“Undress yourself. I am very tired,” he said coldly. At the time, I was kneeling before him, respectfully performing my salute.

It was true that I was his concubine, but I was not a plaything meant to please him. Why should I act like a prostitute, using the most naked method to earn his favor?

Seeing me remain frozen, his tone gradually turned impatient. “Did you not hear me? I am the Crown Prince! The Crown Prince! Can I not even make a decision for myself?”

“This concubine will go make Your Highness a bowl of sobering soup.”

That was the only excuse I could think of to escape the awkward situation.

But the moment I turned, he suddenly grabbed me from behind. What happened after gave me nightmares for days.

My delay enraged him completely. He shoved me hard onto the bed, then practically pounced, straddling me with the posture of a master claiming what was his. My palace dress was complicated and could not be torn off at once, so he lost his mind and yanked at it with brute force, his eyes red as he ripped and pulled. I instinctively raised both hands to cover myself, only for him to drag them above my head and pin them there with one hand.

All I remembered in the end was that I had lost every bit of strength. It was also the first time I felt ashamed to look at my own body. The wedding candles that day were considerate enough to burn halfway before quietly going out. In the darkness, an indescribable pain tore a gash through my heart. His breathing was so ragged it was like a gust of wind scraping past my ear. The stickiest sweat clung to my body; I could not tell whose it was, nor whether it had mingled with my tears.

The ancients said, “A hundred charms give birth to spring, and the soul grows lost; before the three peaks are gathered, even bone turns soft.”

But on my first spring night, the rapturous clouds and rain of Mount Wu never came. The immortals in heaven closed their eyes and casually plucked up a violent storm instead.

I could not believe I would be trapped by his side for the rest of my life. I loathed him so much I was unwilling to look carefully at his face ever again.

Nor could I believe that after someone woke, he could be as if reborn, whitewashing everything he had done.

He did not say a single word tinged with guilt. During the awkwardness of breakfast, he asked my name with caution.