After Transmigrating as the White Lotus Crown Princess - Chapter 6

Because the wedding bed was massive, the gap between the two of them was large enough for another person to sleep in. Ning Huan was naturally unaccustomed to having someone beside him; he had always slept alone. The two slept back-to-back, and Mu Jinyu truly did not pull the quilt over to cover himself.

Ning Huan had already closed his eyes. Xueman was very well-behaved, its head resting against Ning Huan’s, its tiny paws pressing on his shoulder, letting out a rhythmic purring sound. Whether it was the cat’s purring or something else, Mu Jinyu found it difficult to fall asleep.

The air drifted with a faint fragrance—not the common scent of rouge and powder, which felt tacky, but a light sandalwood mixed with a subtle, ethereal sweetness. After a long thought, he realized it was the clear scent of a white lotus. Mu Jinyu was quite sensitive to smells; this aroma was calming, and he soon fell asleep.

However, his body remained frail.

In the middle of the night, Ning Huan heard low coughing. Being new to this place and in an unsettled state, his sleep was shallow, and he was naturally awakened by the noise. The bed curtains hadn’t been lowered; Mu Jinyu slept on the outside. He likely felt that lowering the curtains and being alone inside with Ning Huan would make the atmosphere incredibly bizarre.

By the faint yellow glow of the lamp, Ning Huan sat up halfway, his dark hair cascading over his body. Once tonight is over, it’ll be fine… he thought. Tonight was the wedding night, so the other man was likely just giving him face. By tomorrow night, there would be no one beside him. Moreover, Xueman was quite noisy, purring away; Ning Huan letting the cat sleep by his side was also a way to alleviate the awkwardness of sharing a bed with a stranger.

Mu Jinyu truly hadn’t covered himself with a quilt—he was indeed a man of backbone. But his coughing was severe, to the point where he might cough up blood. Ning Huan naturally remembered that this was the period when Mu Jinyu’s health was at its weakest. Because of the previous assassination attempt in the palace, the wound hadn’t been treated in time, leading to recurring flare-ups and scarring. Combined with his habitual melancholy, his health deteriorated day by day.

Ning Huan shook out the quilt and covered him to prevent further coughing. Just as he was about to touch Mu Jinyu’s body, his wrist felt a sharp pain—he had been restrained.

Mu Jinyu’s cold, dark eyes stared at him, now fully awake. Ning Huan was forced down upon him, his dark hair falling and brushing across Mu Jinyu’s nose bridge. Only then did Mu Jinyu realize that the calming fragrance was the clean scent of Ning Huan’s hair. He also discovered that Ning Huan’s movement was intended to cover him with the quilt.

Mu Jinyu snorted coldly: “I am not cold… cough, cough…” Before he could finish, he began coughing again, uncontrollably spitting out blood.

Ning Huan handed him a handkerchief: “Wipe it.”

He was in a half-awake state. Compared to a man like Mu Jinyu who had reached his majority, Ning Huan was a bit more slender. Looking closely, his features hadn’t fully matured yet; there was still a bit of “baby fat” on his cheeks, but his chin was pointed, and his facial structure was exceptionally exquisite. Without makeup, his jade-white skin was flawless.

Mu Jinyu took the silk handkerchief with a cold face. A smudge of blood blossomed on the white fabric. After wiping, he pulled up the quilt and turned his back again to sleep. Ning Huan took back the blood-stained silk. Having been woken up, he was also exhausted; the moment his head hit the pillow, he fell fast asleep.

Before the Hour of the Rabbit (5 AM), Xueman woke up. It bounced around on the bed, its paws stepping on Mu Jinyu’s face, waking him up. Mu Jinyu opened his eyes, and Xueman, sensing the danger in the man before it, scurried into Ning Huan’s quilt. A cat suddenly burrowing into his arms made Ning Huan let out a soft “don’t play,” his paws pressing against his chest.

He didn’t wake up, only whimpering in a sleepy daze. The sound reached Mu Jinyu’s ears and somehow made his heart skip several beats. No wonder so many men in the capital are enchanted; Mu Jinyu felt the other was truly a “stunning piece.”

Mu Jinyu could no longer sleep. When the sky brightened, it was time to get up. Today they had to enter the palace to see the Emperor and Empress.

Ning Huan loathed waking up in winter. Beside him, Mu Jinyu rose nimbly and put on his python robes. He looked back; Ning Huan’s eyes were still closed. He wondered how his eyelashes grew so long—it made him want to cut them all off.

Mu Jinyu snorted: “Getting up later than me? Do you no longer wish to be the Crown Princess?”

Ning Huan slowly opened his eyes, his pale gaze slightly unfocused and listless. If it were possible, I really don’t want to be this Crown Princess anymore.

Time was indeed short. Ning Huan got off the bed and spread yesterday’s blood-stained handkerchief on the sheets. Mu Jinyu narrowed his eyes: “What is the meaning of this?”

Ning Huan’s voice was cold: “Your Highness is currently too frail for consummation. It’s enough that you and I know this; there’s no need for the nannies to know.”

After the wedding night, a nanny would check for the “falling red.” No one would believe they slept under one quilt and did nothing. Mu Jinyu’s face darkened.

Maids came in with water. Dieqing was about to serve Ning Huan in dressing, but Ning Huan refused: “No need, I’ll dress myself.”

The nanny was from the palace. She had heard that the Crown Prince was extremely dissatisfied with this marriage. He was violent and arbitrary, hating others making decisions for him. Since he had clashed with Ning Huan before, the nanny thought the Prince would either ignore the Princess or torment her severely. Yet, there was a bloodstain half the size of a palm on the white silk. It looked normal.

The Prince’s face was gloomy, not looking like someone who had overindulged; even if he had consummated the marriage, he didn’t seem to like the Princess much. As for Ning Huan—he looked a bit pale, but that was natural for him. There was no shyness on his peerless face; he looked very cold.

Ning Huan was not one to serve others; he was raised in luxury and never bowed to anyone. But since the nanny was here—and she was the Emperor’s person—he had to put on a show. Ning Huan stepped forward: “Your Highness, let me help you dress.”

Mu Jinyu smelled the fragrance from his hair, and his body suddenly stiffened: “No need.”

Ning Huan was still growing, and Mu Jinyu was already tall and straight; there was a slight height difference. From Mu Jinyu’s perspective, he could see Ning Huan’s lowered brows. Ning Huan’s fingers were beautiful, slender and long, nimbly hooking Mu Jinyu’s belt and—without changing expression—tying a dead knot.

Mu Jinyu snorted and pushed him away: “I’ll do it myself.”

Ning Huan glanced at the nanny: See? It’s not that I’m not trying, but the Crown Prince is too irritable to let anyone serve him.

They ate breakfast together. Mu Jinyu didn’t care much for luxury in food or housing; he simply didn’t mind. When he was fifteen or sixteen—the same age as Ning Huan—he had been on the battlefield. Having something to eat on the march was enough. He was not a nitpicker.

Ning Huan, raised in extreme wealth, was naturally unaccustomed. He never expected the Crown Prince’s breakfast to be even worse than the Dingyuan Marquis Mansion’s. The maids served a portion of sauce-meat, two bowls of plain porridge, a basket of buns, and a dish of plain cabbage.

Ning Huan took a bite of a bun; it was all dough and no filling. The other likely had no desire for fine dining. But Ning Huan couldn’t stand it; it was hard to go from luxury to frugality. He didn’t finish the bun and only drank half the porridge.

Mu Jinyu swept a glance at him: “The Crown Prince’s mansion does not allow extravagance or waste.” Ning Huan forced himself to finish it.

By the time they were in the carriage to the palace, Ning Huan felt uncomfortable from overeating. He began to miss his own home again, missing the chefs who made varied delicacies. Looking at Mu Jinyu, Ning Huan let out a faint sigh. The man not only planned to chop off his head but didn’t even provide good food.

Mu Jinyu: “?” He inexplicably felt a hint of “grievance” in Ning Huan’s eyes.

The carriage suddenly hit a bump, and Ning Huan fell into Mu Jinyu’s arms. Though thin, Mu Jinyu’s body was as hard as an iron plate; Ning Huan’s nose bridge ached from the impact. Mu Jinyu saw his nose turn red instantly, a hint of tears in his pale, beautiful eyes, and felt a strange sensation. At first, he didn’t think Ning Huan was a beauty, but looking now—regardless of character—this face truly deserved the word “beautiful.”

However, it was only a fleeting thought. Ning Huan quickly adjusted himself, his indifferent eyes looking elsewhere, though the flush on his nose remained.

Upon arriving at the palace, before they even entered the hall, a seventeen or eighteen-year-old youth approached. He looked a bit slow-witted and resembled Prince Yue; he was Prince Rui, Prince Yue’s brother from the same mother. Prince Rui was Ning Huan’s most loyal pursuer. He used to follow Ning Huan everywhere, dreaming of making him his consort. Now that Ning Huan was married to Mu Jinyu, his heart was shattered.

Seeing Mu Jinyu, he was naturally unhappy. He felt Mu Jinyu was just a sickly person who might die any day; even if he didn’t die of illness, the Emperor might put him to death. How did he have the luck to marry the number one beauty in the capital? But on the surface, he had to act as a harmonious brother.

Prince Rui bowed: “Imperial Brother, Imperial… Sister-in-law.”

His eyes stared fixedly at Ning Huan. Having not seen him for days, the “goddess” seemed even more beautiful, her aura vastly different—carrying a bit more coldness and ruthlessness. She must have suffered grievances with the Imperial Brother. He secretly wished his brother would die so he could take over.

Unfortunately, Ning Huan’s mind was elsewhere, thinking about going back for a nap. Facing Prince Rui’s longing gaze, he didn’t even notice, coldly ignoring him.

Prince Rui couldn’t help but feel disappointed, yet he also lamented: As expected of the goddess everyone admires—so noble and reserved, making one yearn for her. She is nothing like those common, status-climbing women.

Sigh, when will the Imperial Brother finally die?