Chapter Three: If You Wish to Slay Your Husband, Someone Will Hand You the Knife

The servants received their orders; one group tidied up the room while another attended to Xiao Yuanchi’s departure.

The disarray inside the chamber hardly elicited any special reaction from them. They were accustomed to such scenes and did not regard the princess consort differently simply because the prince’s romantic affairs were so passionate. After all, the heir of the neighboring marquisate treated his unofficial concubine in much the same way.

By this time, dawn had broken, and Yin Jiaojiao had no intention of returning to sleep.

“The prince is truly heartless; how could he treat you like this? After all, you are the princess consort!” Xia Lan, the maid, helped her to sit up and exclaimed upon seeing the marks on her body. Yin Jiaojiao cast her a sidelong glance, then took the clothes and draped them over herself.

“Oh dear!” Xia Lan placed her hand on her forehead. “You have a fever! Qiu Ming!”

Another maid, who was handing over the clothes, responded immediately.

“Go fetch the doctor at once! No, wait—first inform the prince!” Xia Lan snorted. “Our princess consort is really ill!”

“Hold on!” Yin Jiaojiao quickly stopped her, fearing that if she were a moment later, Qiu Ming would dash out.

She herself was ill, but whether the illness was genuine or feigned made no difference. The West Garden was currently awash with tender exchanges; if she did not keep her distance and rushed over to snatch the man, it would only deepen Xiao Yuanchi’s dislike of her. Such a move would be utterly futile.

Having been given a second chance at life, Yin Jiaojiao was determined not to repeat the painful mistakes of her previous life.

“Qiu Ming, it’s probably just a cold. Call the doctor to write a prescription, but there’s no need to trouble the prince. Go now.”

Qiu Ming obeyed and left, while Xia Lan looked on in astonishment.

“Princess consort, why not tell the prince? Over in the West Garden, even a strand of hair being cut causes a great fuss and the prince is summoned at once. You’re straightforward and stubborn, often clashing with the prince and refusing to yield, but it’s always yourself who suffers. If I may say so, you really should learn from others and show some humility when needed!”

Yin Jiaojiao gave Xia Lan another sharp glance and suddenly realized that the girl had revealed her true colors far too early.

In her previous life, it was this very argument that had warmed her heart. She had thought the maid was truly a kindred spirit. Her own failure to win over Gu Xuezhi was because she had been too upright and honest, lacking the cunning guile that made Gu Xuezhi so endearing.

Bah!

She was not upright at all. In these past two years, she had tried all kinds of insincere tricks to win Xiao Yuanchi’s favor, including feigning innocence and fragility.

To put it plainly, if a man does not love you, no matter how skilled or accomplished you are, in his eyes you are no different from a street performer.

Such a simple truth—she had failed to understand it while immersed in her situation. Yet Xia Lan, who was ostensibly on her side, should have known better; instead of discouraging her, she egged her on, seemingly eager for her to push herself headlong into Xiao Yuanchi’s forbidden territory.

Hence, it was clear: by now, Xia Lan had betrayed her.

But why?

Xia Lan was born into the Yin household and had grown up alongside her. In her heart, she treated her like a sister, enjoying better food and clothing than most young ladies of noble birth. Even after entering the prince’s mansion, she had planned everything for her, worrying about arranging a respectable marriage to save her from disaster. Who could have foreseen that one day, at a crucial moment, she would betray her, causing her to break a leg and lose a child?

Yin Jiaojiao touched her unhealed leg, her heart still trembling.

“Princess consort? Say something!”

“Your suggestion is good, I will consider it, but today I must enter the palace to pay respects to Consort Shu. Other matters can wait.”

“You’re still going to the palace when you’re like this?” Xia Lan was puzzled. “Why not use the doctor’s visit as an excuse to postpone the audience? After all, the consort calling you is hardly a good thing.”

Tsk, truly her personal maid—one casual remark struck right to her heart. Were it not for her second chance at life and her preparations, she might have agreed that the suggestion made sense.

Consort Ji Shu was Xiao Yuanchi and Gu Xuezhi’s adoptive mother, the one most eager to unite the couple before their imperial marriage.

Yin Jiaojiao’s presence had broken up the pair she favored, a grudge neither too deep nor too shallow. In her previous life, Ji Shu summoned her to the palace every few days, ostensibly to talk, but in truth to keep her away from the prince’s mansion and prevent her from growing closer to Xiao Yuanchi.

Yin Jiaojiao knew thoroughly well to delay and avoid whenever possible.

But this time, she actually missed Ji Shu!

It was around this time that Ji Shu would use the excuse of expanding the family to send beauties to the prince’s mansion. These beauties were carefully selected young ladies from respectable families. Yin Jiaojiao had refused to accept them, so they were kept inside the mansion, forbidden from meeting anyone. Such unfilial behavior soon reached Ji Shu’s ears, and she was furious. She came personally to the mansion and, under the pretense of hosting a grand banquet, forced the beauties to appear.

Of course, that was not the main point. The real issue was that something went wrong at the banquet.

Two of the beauties were assassins, disguising themselves as dancers to try to kill Xiao Yuanchi.

It seemed that whenever one wanted to doze off, a pillow came along; whenever one wanted to murder her husband, there was always a blade handed over. Killing him herself was neither safe nor easy; it was so much more enjoyable to kill by proxy!

Suppressing a smile, Yin Jiaojiao said, “It’s just a fever. Some medicine will fix it. But etiquette must not be neglected; today I shall enter the palace to pay my respects to the consort.”

In her previous life, Xiao Yuanchi survived the assassination because she had thrown herself in front of the blade. This life? Ha, dream on!

While planning, she bathed and changed, eager to go to the palace.

But as she stepped out, she collided headlong into Su Zhengqing. Before he spoke, Yin Jiaojiao understood immediately.

Contraceptive soup—always present after their intimate encounters. No matter how passionate or harmonious things might have been in bed, Xiao Yuanchi’s attitude afterward was resolute: she was not worthy of bearing his child.

Yin Jiaojiao had suffered over this for a long time. Now, she picked up the tray with the contraceptive soup, said nothing, tilted back her head, and drank it all in one gulp.

Such a bold act stunned everyone present.

“P-Princess consort, you…”

Yin Jiaojiao set down the bowl, glanced at the tray, and asked curiously, “Why is there another bowl here?”

Su Zhengqing mumbled, “This bowl is a calming tonic…”

Yin Jiaojiao then remembered Xiao Yuanchi’s casual instruction. She waved her hand. “I’ve had enough medicinal broth already. I’m about to enter the palace, so there’s no need to calm my spirit. Pour it away.”

Su Zhengqing glanced at the sky; it was still early, and the palace gates might not even be open yet. When had the princess consort ever been so dutiful?

He was baffled and, upon returning to report, remained amazed.

“Drank it all in one go?”

Xiao Yuanchi turned from the bookshelf.

“Yes, Your Highness. The consort was quite spirited this time! Like drinking honey lotus soup!” He paused, then added, “However, I heard she has a cold and a slight fever. Before drinking the contraceptive soup, she had a bowl of medicinal broth to dispel the chill. I wonder if the two medicines might conflict…”

“A fever?” Xiao Yuanchi toyed with a hairpin and sneered. “Who told you that? Qiu Ming or Xia Lan?”

“Neither, it was Mother Kong. She didn’t know I was listening. She was chatting with Mother Song, praising the princess consort for being sensible—she wouldn’t disturb you even when sick, and insisted on going to pay respects.”

“Has she left?”

“Yes, when I arrived, she was just about to step out. She’s probably already waiting at the palace gates. The princess consort intends to be the first to pay respects.”

Xiao Yuanchi walked slowly to the table and tossed the golden hairpin with precision into the pen holder.

“Playing these petty games again—she never tires.”

Su Zhengqing curled his lips, still convinced that Mother Kong’s words were correct: the princess consort had become more sensible, not scheming. In the past, if summoned to the palace three times, going once was already good. When she did go, she’d delay until the gates were about to close before finally stepping out. This time was different; she seemed eager to wait by the gates for them to open.

Such filial piety could move the heavens.

...

Yet, the filial Yin Jiaojiao still disappointed Su Zhengqing’s expectations.

She failed to be the first to pay respects. She was not as eager as one might think—there were quite a few who were more so than her.

Consort Shu had not summoned anyone, so those paying respects were arranged to wait in the side hall. Among the assembled ladies, Yin Jiaojiao’s rank was low, but she was seated at the honored seat by the east window. This was because Prince Qin, though seventh in line, was a celebrated general favored by the emperor, and so the princess consort’s status was elevated accordingly.

Yin Jiaojiao supported herself against a soft cushion and sat down, wearing a composed smile.

“Good morning, sisters. You’re all here so early.”