Teasing young men on the payroll was indeed enjoyable, but the moment Lu Meng stepped out of the carriage cheerfully, her mood quickly soured.
Women in ancient times—especially in this fictional world—truly had very few rights.
When they arrived at the palace gates, Lu Meng was the first to exit the carriage. Yet, as she was assisted by her maids, she could only watch as Wu Dagou rode past in his carriage, entering through the main gate.
Xin Ya, standing beside Lu Meng, offered comfort and a gentle reminder: as the side consort of Prince Jian'an, she was not permitted to use that entrance.
Lu Meng was then led by a group of palace attendants through a secluded side gate, one specifically designated for female relatives.
But even without Xin Ya’s explanation, Lu Meng understood. In this world, the title of Prince Jian'an’s side consort was little different from that of a mere concubine.
Had the prince’s household not been empty except for her, any concubine of higher status would have been elevated to side consort and brought to this Mid-Autumn celebration in her place.
Lu Meng had no desire to attend in the first place. Forcing a reclusive homebody into social events was nothing short of cruel.
Moreover, Lu Meng bore the label of an "early-days tragic romance heroine." Scenes like this palace visit were bound to be chaotic—literally.
She had prepared herself. After all, she’d grown up reading melodramatic novels and watching over-the-top soap operas. The tropes of public humiliation and revenge were all too familiar.
The frustrating part was that she was now the "tragic heroine." The injustices suffered by such protagonists rarely saw retribution until their dying moments.
So today, the fool in this farce was none other than herself.
With a sigh, Lu Meng allowed her maids to guide her toward the gate she was permitted to use. But just as she approached, a lavishly dressed woman descended from a carriage and cut in front of her.
In typical tragic romance fashion, this would be the moment when an outraged maid recklessly intervened, only for both the maid and her mistress to be humiliated—leaving the heroine to swallow her tears in silence.
However, before leaving for the palace, Lu Meng had given strict orders: no matter what happened inside, her maids were forbidden from speaking out.
Even Xin Ya had been warned.
Lu Meng’s exact words were: "If anyone accompanying me today offends someone on my behalf, I won’t lift a finger to save you. Whether you live or die will depend on your own luck."
She knew all too well that in these stories, eighty percent of a tragic heroine’s misfortunes stemmed from the reckless actions of those around her.
They’d stir up trouble they couldn’t resolve, forcing the saintly heroine to beg the male lead for help—enduring emotional and physical torment, making painful concessions—all for the sake of a maid who might later betray her for the sake of plot drama, squeezing more tears from the audience.
Ugh.
In this world, Lu Meng trusted no one. She wouldn’t risk herself for anyone.
Even Wu Dagou was little more than a meal ticket.
So when this woman swaggered over like a crab, radiating hostility like a Teletubby broadcasting battle signals, Lu Meng immediately retreated to the side with her maids in tow.
To avoid any accusations of provocation, she pressed herself so close to the wall that she nearly flattened the eunuch guiding them.
This was where Xin Ya proved her worth. Having served several noble ladies in the palace and being well-connected outside, she recognized the woman and whispered to Lu Meng, "Ao Bingxia—daughter of the Minister of Works."
Xin Ya recalled Lu Meng's specific instructions before leaving the house: when encountering anyone, the most important thing was to clarify whether the woman had any connection with the prince.
This wasn’t particularly surprising, as women of this era were especially vigilant about whether their husbands had relationships with other women outside.
A husband was like the heavens. Even if a wife discovered such a connection and felt so wronged she wanted to throw herself into a river, most would still grit their teeth, hold back tears, and actively help their husband take a concubine—some might even willingly give up their position as the primary wife.
All to earn a "virtuous" reputation, and perhaps a few breast nodules in the process.
Xin Ya hesitated slightly before saying, "The treasured daughter of the Minister of Works has been infatuated with the prince for years. Ever since her coming-of-age ceremony, she’s wanted to marry him."
Lu Meng nodded, immediately understanding.
Years of unrequited love = Harem Member No. 1.
Ao Bingxia had indeed spotted the second daughter of the Vice Minister of Revenue, Zhangsun Lumeng, from afar.
Zhangsun Lumeng had never mingled with the noble ladies in the city before, so Ao Bingxia almost didn’t recognize her. Fortunately, her maid identified Xin Ya, the stewardess of Prince Jian'an’s household and Xin Ya’s aunt.
Ao Bingxia wouldn’t spare half a glance for someone like the Vice Minister of Revenue’s second daughter. Rumor had it that on the second day of her marriage, she had knelt outside the Empress Dowager’s chambers until she fainted, nearly tarnishing Brother Xuan’s reputation.
Ao Bingxia wanted to teach her a lesson.
But before she could even pick a fight, this timid, spineless coward had already scurried eight feet away.
The Minister of Works had only one precious daughter, so Ao Bingxia was thoroughly spoiled. For her sake, he had even dared to defy an imperial marriage decree.
Yet, as the saying goes, "While the drooping flowers pine for love, the heartless brook babbles on." The Minister of Works was Prince Jian'an’s man, but the prince had no intention of marrying his daughter to consolidate power.
After all, the entire Ministry of Works was already under Prince Jian'an’s control. If the minister disobeyed, he could simply be replaced. There was no need to sell his charm by marrying a subordinate’s daughter to win loyalty.
This was why Ao Bingxia had been delayed year after year. Now eighteen, she was nearly considered an "old maid" in this era, still unable to marry the man she loved.
Lu Meng wasn’t aware of many of these details, nor could she recall from the plot which supporting female character this was.
But the moment she heard the words "infatuated with the prince," she immediately connected it to the tropes of early tragic romance novels.
This woman was trouble—best to keep a distance. The more minor the character in these early tragic stories, the more mindlessly vicious they tended to be.
Lu Meng had already retreated so far, even yielding the path as the esteemed secondary consort of Prince Jian'an. By all reason, Ao Bingxia should have let it go, no matter how displeased she felt. But Lu Meng had underestimated the brainless, plot-driven antagonists of these early melodramas.
The "Great Crab" Ao Bingxia sidestepped again, raising her pincers as she sneered, "Oh, whose wife is this? Such a peerless beauty."
The words "peerless beauty" were ground out between clenched teeth, dripping with venom.
Facing the secondary consort of the man she couldn’t have, Ao Bingxia found this woman inferior in every way.
Lu Meng outranked her, so she didn’t need to greet her or even respond. She simply ignored the remark, turned with her maid, and hugged the wall as she walked away.
Cowardly? Spineless?
Not at all—the shade along the wall was pleasantly cool.
The Great Crab, having failed to snip her prey, refused to back down. To her, Lu Meng’s disregard was a slap in the face.
She abandoned all decorum, lifting her skirts as she chased after Lu Meng, sidling up to her with provocative intent.
"Isn't this the Prince Jian'an's concubine? So you're the infamous 'Dream Lady' who fainted after just a brief kneeling punishment from the Empress Dowager? How delicate."
"Hmph! You’ve ruined Brother Xuan’s reputation! According to the laws of Wuxi Kingdom, Brother Xuan could divorce you under the Ten Grounds for Repudiation!"
Lu Meng thought to herself, Well, well—so this is a completely fictional mess? The classic "Seven Grounds" has expanded to ten? She really needed to look into what those additional offenses were.
Normally, as the "tragic romance heroine," she should’ve stood her ground and argued with Ao Bingxia, demanding to know how she’d supposedly "ruined Brother Xuan’s reputation."
But after the last time Lu Meng had pinched her own neck raw, she knew Wu Linxuan would inevitably take the blame. If she hadn’t resorted to such measures, she might’ve fainted after just a short kneel—but she feared the Empress Dowager had some sadistic attendant who’d jab her awake with needles.
The bruises on her neck and shoulders from her pinching were unmistakable, especially since it was only the second day after the wedding. Naturally, everyone would assume Wu Dagou had "indulged in debauchery."
So Lu Meng couldn’t care less about Wu Dagou’s reputation or why Ao Bingxia called him "Brother Xuan."
Without a word, she hitched up her skirts and sped up, breaking into what could only be described as a full-on sprint.
As the saying goes: Of the thirty-six stratagems, running away is the best—and sprinting is the best of the best.
She had a system, but no overpowered cheat abilities. So her only option was to outrun her opponent—may the fastest legs win!
These days, she’d been secretly "cycling" under her bed curtains to build stamina!
This was a skill Lu Meng had recently mastered. After that incident when she’d held the lamp for Wu Linxuan, she’d refined her technique. Xiuli had demonstrated the proper way, and Lu Meng had distilled the essence of this hurried walk:
Like a chicken, no matter how fast you run, keeping your neck steady is the key to a noblewoman’s grace!
Grace never goes out of style!
Her hair ornaments barely jingled as she power-walked, though she broke into a sweat almost immediately.
Meanwhile, Ao Bingxia beside her failed to maintain that "grace." Her hairpiece smacked her in the eye, and with a pitiful whimper, she fell behind, supported by her maids. Furious, she stomped her feet, tears streaming down her face.
Seeing she’d stopped chasing, Lu Meng slowed down too. The eunuch leading the way looked bewildered, and though the palace servants kept their expressions neutral—as trained—their curious gazes kept flickering toward Lu Meng.
After all, they’d never seen a noblewoman sprint just to avoid a conversation.
Xin Ya, meanwhile, was torn between laughter and exasperation. Every time she thought she had Lu Meng figured out, the woman shattered her expectations.
Was she being undignified just now? Not really—Ao Bingxia was the one who’d lost composure. Running in the palace was forbidden, but Lu Meng hadn’t technically run—just walked very fast, the same way busy servants did.
Was she being arrogant? No, she’d clearly acted afraid of Ao Bingxia.
But if she was afraid, why did she immediately resume her poised, leisurely stroll the moment Ao Bingxia stopped chasing? There wasn’t a trace of fear or hesitation in her now.
After a moment, Xin Ya stepped closer and whispered, "Lady Meng, you needn’t fear her. The Vice Minister of Revenue’s daughter is beneath you. If you wish to teach her a lesson, this servant can handle it for you."
That was exactly what Lu Meng didn’t want. She quickly shook her head. "No, no—let’s not cause trouble for His Highness. It’s fine. She couldn’t catch me anyway."
Lu Meng said, "But we still need to inform His Highness about this matter. Xiuli, later when we find a secluded spot, take out the paper and brush I asked you to prepare and write down the name of the Minister of Works' daughter."
Xin Ya understood—Madam Meng had inquired about Ao Bingxia's relationship with the prince... Since entering the manor, she had tried several times but failed to truly win his favor. She was likely growing anxious, hoping the prince would arrange marriages or take concubines to secure her reputation and position.
However, the prince had no intention of marrying Ao Bingxia, disliking her arrogance and willfulness.
Xin Ya was considering whether to give Madam Meng another hint when she heard her say, "Yes, note this down: The daughter of the Minister of Works is consumed by jealousy, openly humiliating me in public. She even chased and clawed at me on the palace path, claiming His Highness’s reputation is already ruined and that he won’t even be able to keep me, his only concubine."
Xiuli nodded eagerly. "Mm!"
Xin Ya: "..."
Well... Ao Bingxia had indeed said those words.
But phrased like this, no matter how many more years Ao Bingxia pined for the prince, she would never earn so much as a glance from him.
Xin Ya fell silent. Following the palace attendants' directions, Lu Meng continued toward the banquet where noble ladies had gathered.
Yet they hadn’t gone far—just two alleyways and three small gates later—when they stumbled upon a eunuch being beaten by a group of others. Blood streamed from his nose and mouth, his muffled groans pitiful.
Lu Meng’s steps faltered slightly, then a wave of dread washed over her.
Here we go again!
This whole journey felt like wading through a river of melodrama—would it never end?
The original owner of this body would definitely intervene—not doing so would betray her role as the tragic heroine of a torment-filled story.
But Lu Meng’s instinct was to stay far away and flee—self-preservation was the wisest choice.
And yet... and yet!
Lu Meng remembered this scene. The one being beaten was an important male supporting character!
Just then, the long-dormant system suddenly revived and declared, "For this plot point, you must deliver one line: ‘Your Highness, we are completely innocent! Please believe me!’"
