After Becoming a Concubine, I Took Down the Princess - Chapter 23

Yan Heng, who had vowed never to defile Liang Xiao in her dreams, felt her life was in peril this morning.

In her dream last night, Liang Xiao was dressed in men’s attire, passionately declaring her feelings to her.

“A-Heng, are you willing to marry me and be my wife?”

Yan Heng’s eyes welled up with tears, and she nodded in excitement.

In the dream, the two of them were intimately affectionate, easily rivaling the couples in those operatic plays like Cui Jianyun and Cao Yuhua.

The impact of the dream was too great, causing her to be gloomy and distracted all day. Every time she thought of that outrageous dream, Yan Heng wished she could immediately find a rope and hang herself.

How was she supposed to face the sacred and inviolable Princess now?

Yan Heng seemed to already foresee her eventual death, and tragically slammed her head onto the table.

She tried to comfort herself with the excuse that “Liang Xiao was a man in the dream,” believing she had only had a spring dream that any normal woman would have.

But the various events from the marketplace the day before kept swirling in her mind, making it impossible for her to convince herself.

The Princess is a woman, a genuine woman, and the Princess in her dream last night was merely wearing men’s clothing.

Could it be that she truly harbored some strange thoughts about the Princess…

Yan Quail decided to hide from the Princess for a few days, lest she entertain any further improper thoughts.

At chenshi (7 to 9 a.m.) that day, Liang Xiao was leisurely strolling in the palace.

“Is she unwell?” Liang Xiao paused her steps, stopping at the entrance of Jingning Palace.

Hua Zheng stood to the side, forcing herself to say, “Yes, the Mistress felt dizzy when she woke up this morning. We called the imperial physician, who said she caught a cold from exposure. She has already taken her medicine and is sleeping now.”

Liang Xiao pondered for a moment upon hearing this: “Then I shall come again tomorrow.”

Not long after Liang Xiao left, Yue Zhou arrived carrying a box of medicine.

“These were specially sent by Her Royal Highness after hearing that the Mistress caught a cold,” Yue Zhou said gently, presenting the medicine box to Yan Heng.

Yan Heng feigned a weak demeanor, leaning against the bed in a blanket, and said with a hoarse voice, “Please thank Her Royal Highness for me.”

Yue Zhou left without another word after delivering the medicine box.

Yan Heng lifted the quilt off her, taking the medicine box into her hands.

With a “click,” she opened the clasp. Inside were several small bottles and jars, looking quite valuable and much better than the medicine from the Imperial Hospital.

Yan Heng’s mood was complicated, and she held the medicine box, unsure what to do for a moment.

Ever since she entered the palace, to say that the Princess was this kind to her only because of the Qing Si Kou (Love Knot) was too unreasonable.

Even if she had helped somewhat with the investigation into Consort Lian, the Princess wouldn’t go so far as to care about her this much.

She placed the medicine box back on the cabinet beside the bed and raised her hand to remove the silver hairpin from her hair.

The pure white jasmine bloomed on the head of the hairpin, and the words of the old woman echoed in her ears.

“A mutual love, please do not leave.”

She was merely a mountain spirit; how could she cause the proud phoenix on the branch to care for her so deeply?

For three consecutive days, Liang Xiao was rebuffed at Yan Heng’s door daily.

“Still not well? Did she not take the medicine I gave her?” Liang Xiao asked with a cold expression.

It was Hua Zi’s turn to lie today, and her voice trembled nervously: “The Mistress, the Mistress took it, but she is frail, so she is slow to recover.”

Liang Xiao scoffed: “Consort Yan is frail? I insist on going in to see for myself today.”

With that, she ignored Hua Zi’s attempts to stop her, lifted her skirt, and stepped inside.

Hua Zheng, who was outside the sleeping chamber preparing to warn Yan Heng, was met with a cold glare from Liang Xiao, which instantly silenced her.

Mistress, good luck…

Yan Heng, on her side, was carelessly lying on the bed reading a novel. Hearing someone enter, she didn’t even raise her eyelids and commanded: “Hua Zheng, pour me a cup of tea.”

The person did not reply but obediently walked to the table and poured a cup of hot tea.

Yan Heng held the novel in one hand, without turning her head, her gaze fixed on the exciting story in her hand. She stretched out her other hand, waiting for “Hua Zheng” to bring the tea to her.

But something was strange. Hua Zheng was always talkative and would usually chatter a bit after entering the room. Why was she completely silent today?

A cup of hot tea was placed in Yan Heng’s hand. She lifted her eyes suspiciously and saw Liang Xiao, dressed in brocade, standing by her bed with her arms crossed.

Yan Heng’s hand trembled, and the cup of tea fell to the ground, scattering the tea everywhere and shattering the porcelain cup into pieces.

Just like her mood right now.

Yan Heng: My life is over.

“Your, Your, Your Highness, why have you come? No one even announced your arrival.” Yan Heng forced a flattering smile, and in the midst of speaking, she was about to lift the quilt and get out of bed.

“Don’t move. Aren’t you sick? Just lie down,” Liang Xiao said, still holding her arms across her chest, raising an eyebrow as she watched her.

That piercing gaze made Yan Heng’s heart pound.

She quietly retreated into the covers, pulling the quilt over her head.

“What are you doing, Consort Yan? Aren’t you afraid of suffocating?” Liang Xiao turned and sat on the small couch, pouring herself a cup of tea.

“I’m going to imitate a quail for you, see if it looks like one?” Yan Heng’s voice came from under the quilt, sounding muffled and unclear.

Liang Xiao chuckled softly, then got up and pulled back Yan Heng’s quilt: “Can you breathe?”

Yan Heng covered her face and silently nodded.

Liang Xiao brushed her sleeve and sat down by the bed.

“You lied to me about being sick?” Her voice came from above, making Yan Heng feel utterly ashamed.

“I did have a headache the first day, but later it was to avoid seeing the Emperor…” Her voice grew softer as she spoke. Ever since Yan Heng’s false pregnancy, although Liang Shu no longer summoned her for bed, he liked to visit her every now and then.

“Am I more terrifying than the Emperor?” Liang Xiao’s voice sounded slightly displeased.

Yan Heng scrambled up: “Of course not.”

“Then why are you hiding from me?” Liang Xiao’s eyes were glistening with moisture, looking somewhat wronged.

Yan Heng almost forgot that the Princess was only an eighteen-year-old girl. If she suddenly hid from the Princess, she was bound to be hurt.

Yan Heng lowered her head and finally decided to be honest: “I had a dream, and I dreamt of Your Highness in men’s attire.”

“And then?”

“In the dream, Your Highness and I were rather intimate.” As she said this, she secretly peeked at Liang Xiao’s expression.

She looked as calm as usual, with no visible sign of emotion.

Liang Xiao turned to look at Yan Heng: “You and I have slept in the same bed before. How much more intimate could it be?”

This reminded Yan Heng. An idea sparked, and she met Liang Xiao’s gaze, speaking nonsense right away: “It’s precisely because I dreamt of sleeping with Your Highness in men’s clothes, and I felt that I had defiled Your Highness, that I didn’t dare to see you.”

She spoke with such conviction that Liang Xiao almost believed her.

“Very well, I won’t make things difficult for you,” Liang Xiao said, returning to the couch and holding her tea.

Prying deeper sometimes served no purpose, only to cause oneself distress.

Yan Heng slowly climbed out of bed, shuffled to the other side of the small couch, and tried to please, “Then, is Your Highness still angry?”

Liang Xiao took a sip of tea and said lightly, “I’m not angry anymore.”

She turned her head to glance at Yan Heng, saw that her hair was bare, and frowned as she asked, “Where is your hairpin? Why aren’t you wearing it?”

Yan Heng fumbled for her small pouch from the bed and stood in front of Liang Xiao: “I was afraid of damaging it while sleeping, so I put it away.”

As she spoke, she pulled the hairpin out of the pouch, extending it and shaking it in front of Liang Xiao.

The white jade bead drew an afterimage in the air, and a strange feeling arose in her heart, like a gurgling stream flowing through her. The events of last night flashed before her, making her feel a little embarrassed herself for a moment.

Liang Xiao silently shifted her gaze away from the hairpin, landing on the small pouch in Yan Heng’s hand: “How can that little pouch of yours hold so many things?”

Yan Heng presented the bag like a treasure on the table: “This is a Qiankun (Universal) Pouch. As long as things aren’t too large, they can all fit in. All my valuable treasures are inside.”

Liang Xiao was curious: “Then, what other strange and wonderful things are inside?”

“There are plenty,” Yan Heng pulled the opening of the pouch wider, reached in, rummaged around, and pulled out a few items: “See, there’s some silver money, some jewelry, and the medicine bottles Your Highness gave me…”

She pulled out a booklet: “Why is there a book in here too? That old fox Yan Qiu must have put it in.”

With that, she picked up the book, casually flipped through a few pages, and tossed it back onto the table: “He only loves reading about these weird contraptions. He’s not afraid of accidentally messing himself up one day.”

Liang Xiao had never seen such a thing, so she picked up the book and looked through it in her palm: “Are these all mechanisms that the demons know how to build?”

Yan Heng looked up: “Exactly. They are all clever contraptions.”

Liang Xiao nodded, silently flipping to the back. Suddenly, her fingertip paused, stopping on a certain page.

“‘A painting of utmost wonder can conceal a spell within. When the painting is unfurled, the spell is unleashed, thereby harming people and demons.'” Liang Xiao’s breath caught, and she abruptly pulled Yan Heng, who was still standing beside her.

“Hey, hey, hey, Your Highness—” Yan Heng lost her balance and immediately fell onto Liang Xiao.

The sudden weight made Liang Xiao groan, and her head hit the small table placed on the couch, making a “thump” sound.

Too panicked during the fall, Yan Heng, in an attempt to brace herself, instinctively wrapped her arms around Liang Xiao’s waist, and her face…

was pressed against Liang Xiao’s chest.

The Princess’s waist was very slender, and that part was very soft. Yan Heng’s heart was pounding rapidly.

At the same time, she also felt like she wouldn’t live much longer.

Yan Heng quickly propped herself up on the small table and scrambled up, biting her tongue as soon as she opened her mouth: “Your Highness, s-s-s-sorry.”

Liang Xiao rubbed the back of her head: “It’s nothing. It was me who was too hasty.”

She pretended to be outwardly calm, but her heart was already churning like a storm.

Just now, just now Yan Heng’s face was pressed directly against her…

Liang Xiao was uncharacteristically blushing.

That place, she herself hadn’t touched it many times, let alone Yan Heng’s face pressing entirely, entirely…

Liang Xiao raised her hand to her forehead, covering the flush on her face, and asked Yan Heng, “Did you hit yourself?”

The two of them tacitly avoided mentioning the intimate contact just now. Yan Heng shook her head, then pointed to Liang Xiao’s head: “Does it hurt, Your Highness?”

Liang Xiao waved her hand: “It’s a small thing. Quickly, look at this page in the book.”

Yan Heng sat down obediently, took the booklet, and read the text on it again.

Liang Xiao said from the side: “In my previous memory, A-Lin did send a painting to my Mother Consort.”

Yan Heng pursed her lips: “Does Your Highness mean that the Mother Consort and A-Lin were killed by a demonic spell inside the painting?”

“Precisely,” Liang Xiao nodded. “I suspect the coroner is just an ordinary person who has never seen demonic arts, which is why he ruled it as poisoning.”

Yan Heng pondered: “The demonic arts in this world are diverse and bizarre. To say that one could make people die in that manner… is not impossible.”

She continued: “The demonic spell in this painting must be able to harm anyone it touches, but on that day, there were only the Mother Consort and A-Lin in the palace.”

Liang Xiao gently tapped the page with her index finger: “Then now, we need to find out about this kind of demonic art.”

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