“Even when I’m not here, I can still know what goes on in my residence. Besides…” Zhan Haoting gave her a cool sidelong glance. “You don’t look like the sort of woman who lets others bully her.”
“You mean to say I set up your grandmother, don’t you?” Cheng Yao had guessed he would see through her, so she admitted it openly. “I first realized she was trying to set me up, so I gave her a taste of her own medicine and struck first. How is that my fault?”
She had schemed against someone and still sounded so righteous about it. This girl was nothing like the timid, taciturn woman in the rumors.
Zhan Haoting glanced at her.
Today, she wore a pink dress, delicate and fresh as a lotus standing tall in full bloom.
Her hair was slightly loose, gathered casually at an angle with only a single hairpin. A strand of black hair curled against her snow-white neck. The contrast of white and black was utterly alluring.
Last night, she had blossomed beneath him like a flower, her soft, delicate moans luring him to keep going…
Zhan Haoting withdrew his gaze. His voice was slightly hoarse. “Now that you are my wife, if you are willing to live peacefully, I will neither abandon you nor turn my back on you.”
So, he was no longer going to pursue the matter of her replacing her sister in the marriage, nor would he hold her responsible for scalding his grandmother?
Huh. He was actually pretty decent.
But she would not allow this small favor to trap her in the inner residence.
She had just confirmed that her personal space had come with her as well.
All the supplies she had scavenged in the apocalypse were still inside. She needed to think carefully about what to do next.
Cheng Yao curved her brows and eyes as she thanked him. “Thank you, Your Highness, for sparing my life.”
Yet in an instant, Zhan Haoting’s gaze turned icy.
She had not made any corresponding promise. So she really was still devoted to the Second Prince!
A guard reported from outside the door, “Your Highness, His Majesty requests your immediate presence at the palace.”
Cheng Yao froze. “He won’t even let us rest after our wedding?”
The country wasn’t going to stop functioning without him.
Tsk. The bastard emperor’s exploitative face was even uglier than that of the capitalists.
Zhan Haoting’s eyes flickered, but he said nothing. He turned his wheelchair and went outside, where a guard stepped forward to push him.
Cheng Yao called after him, “Hey, have some breakfast before you go.”
“No need.”
Cheng Yao put several steamed buns into a paper bag, chased after him, and handed it over. “Eat them on the way. Don’t let your stomach go hungry.”
Meeting his complicated gaze, she smiled. “It’s not as if I can finish everything on the table. Wasting food is shameful.”
Her smile was pure and bright as sunshine. Just looking at it made one’s heart seem to brighten as well.
Zhan Haoting’s eyes softened slightly. “Wait for me to come back.”
Cheng Yao waved at him. But then another guard came to report, “Your Highness, a young eunuch from the palace has come to deliver a message. His Majesty orders you to bring the Princess Consort into the palace.”
Zhan Haoting’s brows drew into a deep frown.
Cheng Yao was surprised too. This wasn’t an imperial wedding decree, so why did the emperor want to see her?
Then, all at once, she remembered something. Her eyes widened in shock.
Good heavens—she had transmigrated into a book she had read before the apocalypse!
The female supporting character in the book had the same name as her. She was taciturn and rarely spoke, and had been married off in place of her sister to the War King’s residence.
The male supporting character, War King Zhan Haoting, had rendered such outstanding military service that he had become a threat to the throne. The emperor accused him of plotting rebellion and had him dealt with!
During this trip to the palace, Zhan Haoting would be carried back battered and covered in wounds. Soon afterward, his entire clan would be stripped of their property and exiled. They would not even be given a chance to catch their breath!
She and Zhan Haoting—two innocent supporting characters—would meet utterly tragic ends. Back then, she had complained to her classmates that the author was heartless and cursed the story until she was practically spitting saliva.
Who would have thought she would become this unlucky female supporting character herself?
She had struggled desperately for twenty years in the apocalypse, only to transmigrate here and be dragged into exile, where she would suffer every possible hardship. What was she even supposed to say?
Was this delayed retribution?
But she had saved so many people in the apocalypse using her abilities. Was that still not enough to cancel out one moment of reckless venting?
No, wait. The author really had written a melodramatic and heartless story. She hadn’t been wrong to curse at all, had she?
Cheng Yao’s entire state of mind collapsed. Her heart sank to the bottom of a valley.
Zhan Haoting assumed she was afraid of meeting the emperor. Her little face had gone pale, as though she were about to cry, and his heart softened despite himself. He tugged gently at her little finger.
“I’ll go with you.”
Cheng Yao came back to herself. Her gaze moved from his handsome face to the large hand enveloping hers, and for some inexplicable reason, her nose began to sting.
Zhan Haoting was the iron-boned God of War of the Great Feng Empire.
He had gone onto the battlefield at the age of ten, immediately displaying extraordinary military talent.
Rising from a common soldier to the rank of general, he had only grown stronger, planning every campaign with perfect precision and leaving his enemies utterly powerless to fight back.
For thirteen years, he had protected the people, reclaimed lost territory, and ushered in an era of peace and prosperity. He was the hero of the Great Feng Empire.
Yet that bastard emperor had once been an unfavored prince, more than ten years older than Zhan Haoting, timid and incompetent. Even the eunuchs and palace maids had bullied him.
It was Zhan Haoting who had protected him, led him into battle, and helped him establish one military achievement after another. He had assisted him in building his reputation, helped him climb onto the throne, and then helped him secure his empire.
Zhan Haoting had been left covered in injuries, and both his legs had been crippled. Over the past two years, he had even voluntarily surrendered his military authority, becoming a tiger with its fangs pulled—completely harmless.
And yet the bastard emperor still refused to let him go, determined to wipe him out completely.
That bastard really wasn’t human.
Zhan Haoting’s brows furrowed even more deeply. What was going on? The little girl had not been comforted at all. In fact, her complexion looked even worse.
He tightened his grip around her hand and laced their fingers together, soothing her. “Don’t be afraid. I’m here.”
His low voice was rich and warm, steady yet gentle, bringing a sense of peace.
Cheng Yao forced a smile. “Let’s go.”
Zhan Haoting frowned. “Change your clothes.”
She was wearing a strapless gown, exposing a large expanse of snowy skin across her chest. He kept thinking he ought to find something to cover her with.
Cheng Yao pulled her outer robe more closely around herself. “But I only have white clothes.”
“Then wear white.”
Cheng Yao considered taking a set of modern hanfu from her space, but decided against it after thinking that the workmanship would look different from clothing made in ancient times.
After getting ready, she climbed into the carriage. She had been sorting through the plot of the book in her mind when she finally came back to herself and realized that a cloak carrying a cool, clean masculine scent had been draped over her shoulders.
“It’s chilly now that autumn has arrived.”
Zhan Haoting had dropped his disguise. All the sharpness around him had been restrained, and he appeared gentle and refined—completely different from the imposing and forceful figure he usually presented.
Perhaps because they were nearing that bastard emperor, he was instinctively lowering his presence.
As Cheng Yao sat in a daze, Zhan Haoting handed her the paper bag in his hand. “Eat something first.”
Cheng Yao laughed. These were the steamed buns she had prepared for him, yet the one benefiting from them had turned out to be her.
“Let’s eat together.”
Tea was kept warm on the small table inside the carriage, thin wisps of steam rising into the air.
One bun each and a cup of tea were enough to drive away the chill of early autumn.
…
The palace’s vermilion walls towered deep within the imperial city. Guards in armor stood in rows upon rows, turning the enormous palace into a natural barrier that separated it from the ordinary people outside.
Those walking through the palace were all princes, nobles, and members of the imperial family. An air of lofty authority permeated the place.
This was Cheng Yao’s first time coming so close to the very heart of power. To be honest, she was still rather nervous.
Zhan Haoting went in first to meet the emperor, while she waited outside the palace gates.
Just then, a well-dressed man and woman came walking hand in hand from beneath the corridor.
Who else could they be but Cheng Lan and the Second Prince, Murong Chen?
Cheng Yao glanced at them, then turned her head away.
“Seeing ghosts in broad daylight. What rotten luck!”
