Volume One, Chapter Two: The Fiancé

He thought of how she had been pampered in the palace for sixteen years, proud and willful, and now, suddenly thrown into a place like this, she must be unable to bear the suffering of these recent days in the Eternal Alley. Yet how innocent was his little sister? Remembering the pitiful helplessness of his youngest sister, Pei Shangyan felt his sympathy for Mu Yuanzhi wane somewhat.

“Sister Zhi, the wounds my little sister suffered are no lighter than yours. Don’t let jealousy take root again. Go back and apologize to her properly; she is kind-hearted and will surely forgive you.”

Jealousy? Mu Yuanzhi had indeed once been jealous of Pei Yunxi. Her father, the emperor, had only sons under his knee, and as the sole princess, even though she was adopted, she was cherished beyond measure. But in the end, an adopted daughter is only that; Pei Yunxi, the true princess, became the apple of their eye. She was no longer their beloved daughter, no longer their good little sister...

She blamed herself for overreaching, for trying to reclaim the affection that should have belonged to her alone. Yet, never had she done anything to hurt Pei Yunxi—every accusation from beginning to end had been fabricated by Pei Yunxi! But no one believed her. They thought her skill with hidden weapons was proof of a dark heart, never mind that the devices she devised were vital defenses for the imperial city! All those voices praising her genius turned twisted and sour after Pei Yunxi appeared.

“Thank you, Crown Prince Brother,” Mu Yuanzhi said, unobtrusively pushing Pei Shangyan away, stubbornly struggling to stand straight on her own unsteady feet.

She called him Crown Prince Brother as always, yet every word held an unfamiliar distance, shutting him out completely.

Now Pei Shangyan finally sensed the discord. In the past, even a scratch would have had Sister Zhi clinging to him, aggrieved and seeking comfort. Now, though she could barely stand, she still insisted on toughing it out.

“Mu Yuanzhi, receive the imperial decree.”

Mu Yuanzhi lowered her gaze, calmly kneeling to accept the decree. The world was ice and snow; the moment her knees touched the ground, cold shudders wracked her body. Her knees, already scraped, stung with pain through the thin prison garb pressed against the snow, the chill biting to the bone.

When Pei Shangyan finished reading the edict and was about to help Mu Yuanzhi up, she drew a steadying breath and managed to stand herself, stumbling as she slowly walked away.

Watching her stubborn retreat, he recalled her earnest pleading from before. An inexpressible feeling welled up in Pei Shangyan’s chest.

By the time he gathered himself, Mu Yuanzhi was already far away. He called after her narrow, frail silhouette: “Sister Zhi, Father is waiting for you at the Sacrificial Altar.”

Mu Yuanzhi understood—her father wanted her to apologize to his precious daughter in front of everyone. Very well.

The eunuch on duty outside watched Mu Yuanzhi coldly. The sedan chair beside him stood empty; no one invited her to sit, though just days ago, everyone had fawned over her, addressing her as princess at every turn.

She was used to the fawning and disdain of palace people and couldn’t be bothered to quarrel with a mere eunuch.

Along the way, servants whispered as she passed. Once, they would have respectfully stepped aside from afar; now, knowing how little she truly meant to the emperor, their respect vanished.

After all, who that was truly favored would end up imprisoned in the Eternal Alley—a place meant for criminals and slaves?

Mu Yuanzhi kept her gaze forward, heading straight for the Sacrificial Altar.

Suddenly, a shadow fell across her path.

She looked up and met a pair of deep, pitch-black eyes.

“Your Highness,” he addressed her.

For no reason, Mu Yuanzhi’s heart tightened. Seeing Xiao Yichen again made her fingertips tremble.

This was her betrothed, the dream of every maiden in the capital, the young and accomplished Grand Secretary—Xiao Yichen, the man she had once loved and hated with equal passion.

“Grand Secretary Xiao.” The bitterness in her chest rose to her throat. In the end, Mu Yuanzhi replied only lightly, not even bothering with a polite smile.

There is no grief greater than a dead heart.

A flicker of surprise flashed in Xiao Yichen’s eyes as he took her in, inch by inch.

No wonder he felt something amiss. Before, every time she saw him, she would pester him endlessly—calling him Brother Chen this, Brother Chen that—never ceasing until she’d talked his ear off.

She used to think he disliked noise and thus found her annoying. But then she saw Pei Yunxi chattering incessantly around him, and when he smiled at her with such indulgence, Mu Yuanzhi was jolted awake: for someone you don’t care for, even the sound of their breathing is wrong.

It wasn’t that he liked peace; he just didn’t like her.

How laughable, that in her past life, she stubbornly beat her head against a wall, determined to compete with Pei Yunxi, only to end up with Xiao Yichen personally subjecting her to torture—the punishment of skinning!

He had cruelly used a small knife to slice open her flesh, his tone cold as he told her she deserved it, that she had nearly ruined his precious sweetheart’s face.

Xiao Yichen would never know that the one nearly disfigured had been her—not Pei Yunxi, who had set the trap.

The torments of her previous life were too much to bear; Mu Yuanzhi struggled even to breathe.

Xiao Yichen, thinking she was cold, took off his cloak and draped it over her shoulders.

Instantly, the scent of Xiao Yichen enveloped her, churning up a storm of feelings within her—a wave of nausea so strong she wanted to retch.

Almost instinctively, she reached to remove the cloak, but his hand was quicker, pressing hers down with a broad, steady palm. Above her head, his voice fell cold: “Your Highness, you’ll soon be seeing His Majesty—do not lose your composure.”

He was right, of course. Mu Yuanzhi glanced down at the cloak, then smiled faintly and withdrew her hand, nodding at him.

She recognized this cloak—Pei Yunxi had embroidered it herself for Xiao Yichen. When she learned of it in her past life, jealousy had driven her to try to burn it, and for the first time, he’d struck her, shoving her into a desk, where a candle seared her wrist—and not a single word of apology followed.

Whereas the robe she had embroidered for him—he had never worn it, not even once.

Such a garment, full of tender affection, would do just fine for her to wear to Pei Yunxi's grand recognition ceremony.

Surely, that would make everyone’s little princess happy.

Seeing that Mu Yuanzhi had no intention of lingering, Xiao Yichen suppressed his doubts and said, “Your Highness finds it difficult to walk—shall I summon a sedan chair for you?”

“There’s no need, Grand Secretary Xiao.” She didn’t even look back.

She knew that Xiao Yichen’s concern was nothing but the duty of a prospective son-in-law. After the recognition ceremony, he would belong to Pei Yunxi, and wouldn’t even bother to feign such courtesy for her.

After all, when the marriage edict was given, it only stated “the princess”—it never specified which princess. Wasn’t it only natural for it to be passed on to Pei Yunxi?

The empire’s finest young man, Xiao Yichen—of course her father would want him for his trueborn daughter, not an adopted one.

Xiao Yichen did not press the matter. He watched Mu Yuanzhi with a gaze full of confusion, but quickly lost interest in puzzling it out.

After all, she was only sulking. In half a day, she’d be back to pestering him as usual. She’d always been spoiled and headstrong, never considering anyone else’s feelings.

Let her suffer a little this time—perhaps it would teach her a lesson, before her character grew so rotten it destroyed herself and others.