Lu Meng waited left and right, but the person she was expecting still hadn't returned. Just as she was about to go to bed, too unwilling to give up, the new nanny finally came back.
Not only did she bring Lu Meng a pile of delicious treats, but she also handed her a letter.
"It was a maid claiming to be from the Minister's residence who asked me to deliver this to Lady Meng," Xin Ya said, watching as Lu Meng took the letter.
Following Prince Jian'an's instructions, she carefully observed Lady Meng's expression upon receiving the letter and her subsequent reaction.
Xin Ya's gaze was complicated—could Lady Meng truly be working for the Fourth Prince?
Lu Meng looked utterly baffled, her hands busy unwrapping a pastry from its oiled paper.
Upon hearing Xin Ya's words, she took the letter, fiddled with it for a moment, then let out a loud sneeze—"Achoo!"
The letter was so heavily perfumed it made her head ache.
Xin Ya watched her nervously, but Lu Meng didn’t even open it. Instead, she tossed it aside and continued eating from the paper bag.
Lu Meng had no idea what any of these pastries were called. Xin Ya, too focused on studying her expression, hadn’t bothered to explain.
But after seeing Lu Meng devour three pastries and open a jar of candied fruit preserves, Xin Ya glanced at the untouched letter on the table and said, "Lady Meng, since this letter was sent from the Minister of Revenue’s residence, won’t you read it?"
Xiuyun and Xiuli, the two maids helping Lu Meng unwrap the treats, couldn’t help but sneer. Though they hadn’t served their mistress since childhood, they had at least grown up in her courtyard.
After the eldest young lady left for the borderlands, the second young lady—under the watchful eyes of Madam Chen and her daughter, Changsun Lingling—had lived a life barely better than a servant’s.
She had nearly shared meals and living quarters with Xiuyun and Xiuli. The master of the house paid no attention to her, and sometimes the food in her courtyard had to be grown by her own hands. Winters had been especially harsh.
Now that she had become Prince Jian'an’s concubine, they suddenly remembered to send her a letter? Hmph! No doubt they were eyeing the gifts she’d bring back for her homecoming visit tomorrow, scheming to take them for themselves.
Lu Meng’s mouth and hands were both occupied. Though she ate elegantly, she was far from slow.
Hearing Xin Ya’s words, she gave the nanny a sweet, squint-eyed smile. Her delicate, lively features—highly admired in the current era—made her look especially endearing when she smiled like this.
Such a genuine, warm expression made Xin Ya slightly uncomfortable.
She liked Lady Meng—and that was the problem.
Xin Ya had served all kinds of masters—those who hid daggers behind their smiles, those with honeyed words and venomous hearts, and even those who delighted in tormenting others behind closed doors.
She prided herself on seeing through people’s facades at a glance. Yet after two days with this mistress, she still couldn’t find any flaws or discern what kind of person she was.
In fact, she had even begun to feel fond of her… Earlier, she had mistaken her for a simple-minded child.
No wonder Prince Jian'an had said today that Lady Meng was likely a fox who had cultivated into a spirit.
Xin Ya racked her brains but couldn’t fathom that in this world, there existed someone with no ambitions—someone content as long as they had food, drink, and status, who could eat and sleep without a care and would never lift a finger unless absolutely necessary.
So the smile Xin Ya interpreted as ingratiation was, in truth, simply because the treats she’d brought today suited Lu Meng’s tastes perfectly.
While Xin Ya was lost in thought, trying to figure out how to steer Lu Meng into reading the letter and revealing her true nature, Lu Meng picked up the heavily scented letter with her slender, slightly food-stained fingers.
She turned and handed it to Xin Ya, saying, "Would you trouble the nanny to send this to His Highness?"
Xin Ya’s head snapped up, her composure slipping for a moment. Fortunately, she was well-versed in maintaining appearances, so her expression remained unchanged—even carrying a faint smile.
"But this was sent from the Minister of Revenue’s residence, addressed specifically to Lady Meng. Won’t you read it yourself?" Xin Ya asked, subtly guiding the conversation.
No matter how much she might like Lady Meng, she never forgot that she served Prince Jian'an.
Lu Meng held the letter, noticing how the nanny repeatedly urged her to read it. Her downcast eyes rolled slightly—she knew something was up.
She had been too focused on eating earlier, but now that she thought about it, a cold sweat broke out on her back.
This nanny had been assigned to her by the male lead. She was never one for idle chatter and always got things done efficiently. If she was insisting so much on Lu Meng reading the letter, there had to be a scheme!
The letter reeked of perfume—just how shameless was the Minister of Revenue to send his daughter a letter using scented paper, like some schoolboy writing a love note?
This was probably… a test from that bastard male lead? Or some forgotten plot twist drenched in melodrama?
Whatever it was, she wasn’t falling for it!
Lu Meng pinched the letter between her fingers, pondered for a moment, then put on a pitiful expression. "Ah… To be honest with you, nanny, in my maternal home, I lived worse than a dog."
Xin Ya’s eyelids twitched at Lu Meng’s blunt words—she was genuinely shocked.
Women who suffered hardships usually hid them, terrified of being ridiculed. While it wasn’t exactly a secret that the Minister of Revenue favored his concubine over his lawful wife, it wasn’t something openly discussed either.
If he didn’t even respect his wife, how could he possibly care for the second daughter she left behind?
Still, Lady Meng’s choice of words was rather… dramatic.
Lu Meng frowned, recalling fragments of the original novel’s plot about the female lead’s horrendous family.
She spoke with genuine emotion, "Don’t laugh at me, nanny. My father doted on his concubine and neglected my mother, who died of sorrow because of him. He treated me like livestock, leaving me to fend for myself—only to later use my looks for his own gain."
"A father like that—why would he send me a letter? Even if he did, it would only be to drink my blood, eat my flesh, and skin me alive."
Lu Meng knew that in the original story, there was a famous scene where the male lead slaughtered the female lead’s family to torment her—but that was because the Minister of Revenue was corrupt and deserved it.
Still, many early romance novels loved this kind of drama. Lu Meng felt no attachment to her "birth father."
She thought he deserved to die. He drove his lawful wife to her grave, embezzled state funds—who else should die if not him? His concubine was just as vile, and the stepsister had even tried to steal the male lead in the original plot. If they didn’t die, how would the story progress?
Lu Meng wasn’t heartless—she just knew her limits. Saving herself was already a struggle. She didn’t share the original host’s emotions or her habit of trying to save everyone.
Life and death were fated!
Wealth and status depended on the male lead, after all!
Since this nanny served the male lead, Lu Meng decided to send him a message through her: Do whatever you want with my maternal family—I won’t interfere!
If ancient times had allowed it, she would’ve signed a disownment agreement during her homecoming visit!
So Lu Meng smiled bitterly, genuinely pitying the original host—though only in her heart.
Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears as she said, "If this letter was sent by Madam Chen or her daughter, then there’s even less reason for me to read it. If not for the laws of the land, I would gladly drag those two—who indirectly caused my mother’s death—down with me!"
So go ahead, male lead—don’t hold back on my account!
Tears welled in her eyes, but her expression turned resolute. She met Xin Ya’s gaze with fierce determination and said, "Besides…"
Lu Meng seemed hesitant to speak, but after a moment, she sighed and said, "Nanny, I’ve been confined to the inner chambers since childhood, taught only the virtues of obedience... My father never hired a tutor to educate me. I can’t even read."
The ancient script was indeed something she had to guess at, with strokes and radicals she couldn’t comprehend.
At least I’m deaf, blind, and illiterate.
Her words were earnest—though the crumbs of pastry clinging to the corner of her lips somewhat undermined her sincerity.
This was Lu Meng’s first real performance since transmigrating. Not that those palace intrigue dramas she’d binge-watched in her past life were for nothing. What girl hadn’t practiced dramatic expressions in front of a mirror?
Besides, she had some impression of the original owner’s personality—a meek woman with a stubborn streak. Like when she saved the male lead only to have her credit stolen, enduring suffering without a word of protest. Ah, I just won’t explain, just for fun.
So noble!
Lu Meng figured borrowing this "nobility" for her current act wasn’t a stretch.
What she didn’t realize was that she’d overdone it.
Xin Ya delivered Lu Meng’s letter back to Prince Jian'an, who had already heard from his spies about the performance of his "Dream Consort."
Everything else was flawless, but that final claim—"I can’t read"—made Wu Linxuan, who had been momentarily puzzled by her act, sneer coldly.
"She may have lived in seclusion within the Vice Minister’s residence, with no interaction with other noble ladies, and her father might not have hired her a tutor... But she can read. At the very least, she’s literate enough for daily correspondence."
Wu Linxuan’s tone was icy. "The Vice Minister’s eldest daughter personally tutored her younger sister in reading and writing before her own marriage. Even now, stationed at the border and unable to return for her sister’s wedding due to the war, she still sends frequent letters—along with generous dowry gifts."
Xin Ya had initially wanted to speak in the Dream Consort’s favor. After all, Lu Meng’s performance had swayed her again—she seemed pitiable yet not entirely spineless.
But the prince’s words sent a chill down Xin Ya’s spine.
The Dream Consort is far more cunning than she appears!
"At least she’s not as stupid as my fourth brother," Wu Linxuan remarked, knowing full well that letters sent into his manor were not to be read—let alone answered.
He burned the letter, which detailed his fourth brother’s invitation to meet Lu Meng at the Wenhua Pavilion in a few days.
"Interesting." Wu Linxuan smirked, closing his eyes in thought before ordering, "Keep watching. Let’s see what tricks she plays next."
Had he uncovered his consort’s schemes tonight, she wouldn’t live to see dawn.
The rumors of his sadistic bedroom preferences were already spreading like wildfire, costing him his official post. Disposing of this "thorn in his side" would not only rid him of a nuisance but also drag his dear fourth brother down with her.
He had devised several brutal ways to "make full use" of his concubine—each more vicious than the last.
But the fox had shown its tail, and Wu Linxuan hadn’t pounced.
This only stoked his competitive spirit.
He could tolerate a clever spy dancing before his eyes, but never a fool snoring at his bedside.
Had Lu Meng known, she’d have recognized this trope: "Woman, you’ve successfully caught my attention."
Whether in modern idol dramas or rebranded ancient nobility, the trope remained the same.
But Lu Meng remained oblivious to the male lead’s wariness—the very reason he hadn’t acted against her. She didn’t realize her clumsy act had been mistaken for cunning, her pig’s snout adorned with scallions being taken for ivory.
As far as she was concerned, she’d dodged a melodramatic disaster. She ate a little more, accidentally overindulging—especially on pastries, which didn’t seem like much until she drank water... Oh no, they’ve expanded.
Then she sprawled on the bed, sleeping as soundly—and as plumply—as a well-fed piglet.
What Lu Meng hadn’t anticipated was the physician’s diagnosis of her congenital frailty being real.
Her midnight snack led to another stomachache.
At least she didn’t vomit this time—progress. A hot water bottle eased the pain, and the physician was summoned again to prescribe medicine. Pale-faced and resigned, Lu Meng watched Xin Ya confiscate her snacks with a hollow stare.
Food and lust are human nature.
She’d already sworn off lust. Now she couldn’t even eat? How am I supposed to live?!
But restoring her health was paramount.
This time, Lu Meng obeyed, not daring to snack recklessly. She drifted into a groggy sleep, thus avoiding another round of lantern duty.
On the third morning of their marriage, Wu Linxuan noticed Xin Ya holding the lantern again and scoffed, "Did she send you?"
Xin Ya’s feelings toward the Dream Consort were now tangled. In Lu Meng’s presence, she struggled to maintain hostility—but her loyalty lay with the prince.
After weighing her options, Xin Ya hardened her heart, pushing away thoughts of Lu Meng’s pale, pitiful face and the endearing way she’d nuzzled against her chest.
"Dream Consort overate last night, giving herself a stomachache. She only just fell asleep after the ordeal and asked me to attend you in her stead."
Wu Linxuan’s laughter was cold as he strode toward his carriage.
"She’s doing this on purpose," he declared.
Before boarding, he added, "Indulge her whims. But today is her homecoming visit. I won’t return after court. Prepare thoroughly—by nightfall, she’ll find a way to seek me out."
He emphasized "prepare thoroughly," and Xin Ya understood his meaning. Though reluctant, she nodded.
Lu Meng, meanwhile, remained blissfully unaware that the male lead had begun "dealing with" her.
Waking with a sore stomach, she felt well enough to feast—but obediently settled for plain congee and pickles.
Stomach ailments in ancient times must be hard to treat. A minor issue could turn into stomach cancer—and I’ve heard that’s excruciating! She recalled the original owner’s death from constant vomiting and agony—probably stomach cancer!
I absolutely cannot get sick!
Lu Meng entered full health-preservation mode. Were it not for fear of breaking character, she’d have started doing calisthenics.
After breakfast, her maids reminded her—today was her homecoming. Xiuyun and Xiuli exchanged uneasy glances, but Lu Meng still didn’t grasp the "severity" of the situation.
Only when she learned that Prince Jian'an was detained at court and couldn’t accompany her—and that Xin Ya, the ever-"considerate" nanny, had prepared only a meager gift box—did Lu Meng’s expression shift.
This was a classic trope in early romance novels: if the male lead didn’t attend the heroine’s homecoming, humiliation was guaranteed.
Even in sweet romances, the pattern held—the heroine would be bullied until the male lead swooped in for a dramatic rescue, winning her heart while putting her family in their place.
But Wu Linxuan hadn’t even shown his face. Not only was Lu Meng returning alone, but the paltry gifts were practically an insult.
As the "tragic heroine," what storm awaits me at the Vice Minister’s residence?
Xiuyun and Xiuli, their eyes brimming with tears, supported Lu Meng as she opened the chest and peered inside. The moment she saw its contents, she clutched her chest and leaned heavily against the carriage, her hand trembling.
The anguish in her eyes made Xin Ya shift uneasily.
Had they gone too far?
Such a "homecoming gift" would leave the Vice Minister's household speechless, but Madam Chen—Lu Meng—would undoubtedly be humiliated, even turned into a laughingstock. No matter how neglected she was, this blatant disregard for her dignity was truly...
Lu Meng pressed a hand to her chest, forcing her expression to remain composed despite the grotesque sight inside the chest.
"Is this... the homecoming gift?" Her voice wavered faintly.
Xiuyun and Xiuli's tears fell silently. They had believed that marrying a prince would bring their mistress a better life—who could have imagined the prince would be the one to humiliate her most cruelly?
As they steadied Lu Meng's swaying figure, she turned to Xin Ya, who had prepared this mockery, and asked, "Isn't this... inappropriate?"
Xin Ya's lips twitched before she lowered her head. "Madam Chen, these are the prince's orders. Please board the carriage."
The prince wanted to shame her, to force her true nature to surface.
But for Lu Meng, this "gift" was nothing short of torture—because homecoming gifts were meant to remain at the Vice Minister's residence. Her heart bled at the thought.
Damn it! Fck! Sht! !
Lu Meng cared nothing for schemes, humiliation, or suspicions of her being a spy. All she saw was the fortune in gold, silver, and priceless treasures—riches she herself had never been allowed to touch. The only valuable she owned was a pure gold phoenix crown, which she polished lovingly every day.
And now, all of this was to be handed over to her "beast of a father."
Why?!
Such a massive chest—how much money was this?!
That wasteful, good-for-nothing male lead!
