After Transmigrating into a Book, I Was Entangled by the Paranoid Eldest Princess - Chapter 31

Chapter 31

Beside the bamboo grove, Wen Chenqing and Yinxing, who had exited early, stood on the bluestone path waiting for Wen Zhaolan to return. As they whispered to each other, a sudden sound of footsteps caused them to stop.

Wen Chenqing looked up to see a stranger in moon-white brocade robes, his stature tall and upright, appearing at the end of the path. She assumed he was just passing through, but he stopped directly in front of them.

“Wen Chenqing.”

The stranger called her name with a cold, inexplicable tone. Wen Chenqing frowned: “Who are you?”

The man’s eyes were like ice-tempered blades: “Who I am is unimportant. What matters is this warning: Shiyuan is kind-hearted and does not hold your past actions against you. But if you dare to do her even the slightest harm, or use the name of ‘sister’ to drag her down, I will never let you off.”

Fine. As soon as she heard this, Wen Chenqing knew exactly who was standing before her: Wen Shiyuan’s canonized partner and the male lead of the novel, Pei Huaici.

“Oh. But how I get along with my elder sister is a matter between us sisters in the Wen family,” Wen Chenqing asked coldly. “Does my elder sister know you came to warn me?”

Pei Huaici’s sword-like brows furrowed, his eyes darkening: “Are you threatening me?”

Wen Chenqing was speechless. She scanned the surroundings and said flatly: “My elder sister is coming.”

Pei Huaici’s stiff, dark expression froze, and he subconsciously turned to look. Wen Shiyuan hurried toward them, stopped before the pair, and performed a subtle inspection of Wen Chenqing. Seeing she was unharmed, she breathed a sigh of relief before turning to Pei Huaici.

“You… what did you say to my sister?”

Pei Huaici’s face softened instantly upon seeing Wen Shiyuan. He replied with steady composure: “We just chatted for a few moments about how she should learn to respect you.”

Wen Shiyuan turned to ask: “Is that so?”

Wen Chenqing nodded.

Wen Shiyuan’s expression eased, though she still knit her brows: “Don’t do this again in the future. We are sisters; if there is an issue, we will resolve it ourselves.”

Pei Huaici kept his gaze fixed on Wen Shiyuan, his eyes seeing nothing else since she had arrived. Seeing the flicker of irritation on her face, he agreed immediately: “Alright.”

Wen Chenqing watched the two of them and took a step back, unwilling to be caught in the middle of the male and female leads’ drama: “Miss Wen seems to be coming out soon. Elder Sister, I’ll go check.”

As she led Yinxing away, Wen Chenqing couldn’t help but steal a look at Pei Huaici, who was staring intently at Wen Shiyuan. Pei Huaici, currently the heir to the Pei estate and a future Great General, was also the very person who had proposed the Princess’s marriage alliance at court.

When she met up with Wen Zhaolan, Wen Chenqing still felt a suffocating pressure in her chest, making it difficult to breathe. Seeing her pale complexion, Wen Zhaolan asked with concern: “What’s wrong?”

Wen Chenqing shook her head: “Nothing.”

Seeing that she didn’t want to speak, Wen Zhaolan considerately changed the subject. When the banquet ended, Wen Chenqing bid Wen Zhaolan farewell and once again followed behind Wen Shiyuan. Just as the two were about to board their carriage, a carriage with a black base and gold patterns rolled slowly past not far away. The emblem hanging from the shafts glittered in the sunset—it was the carriage of the Eldest Princess’s mansion.

Wen Chenqing’s feet were instantly rooted to the spot. Everyone else who hadn’t yet departed also noticed the carriage, which signaled high authority. Wen Shiyuan suddenly recalled that in the spring of the 15th year of the Yankang era, Wen Chenqing had been so desperate to cling to the Eldest Princess that she had pestered her into going to the Marquis’s estate, which led to the incident where she pushed her into the lake. She glanced subtly at Wen Chenqing, who was keeping her head bowed.

Someone nearby remarked: “It must be Her Highness the Eldest Princess returning from the palace, passing by this way.” “Indeed, this street is a necessary route for many members of the royal family to return to their mansions.”

The crowd stopped to give way. Wen Chenqing lowered her eyelashes, maintaining a posture of respectful avoidance just like everyone else. The surroundings seemed to fall silent; even the blustery wind died down. The carriage moved at a measured pace, the sound of the wheels rolling over the bluestone road audible and clear.

Just as the carriage was about to pass the Wen family carriage, Wen Chenqing felt someone nudge her side. She shifted her gaze slightly to see Wen Zhaolan, her face slightly flushed, whispering: “I forgot to ask earlier—are you free tomorrow? How about I bring that book to you tomorrow?”

Wen Chenqing’s focus was scattered, and she barely managed to comprehend Wen Zhaolan’s intent. She stared into the other woman’s eyes and nodded slightly: “That’s fine.”

Wen Zhaolan broke into a happy smile. As the two whispered, a breeze swept past, catching the corner of the side curtain of the Princess’s carriage. For a fleeting instant, the curtain lifted, only to fall again just as quickly, blocking out all prying eyes.

Wen Chenqing kept her head dutifully lowered from start to finish, terrified of seeing anything she shouldn’t. Because of this, she missed the moment when, through the fluttering gap in the curtain, a profound gaze—as deep as an endless, icy pool—swept across them from afar.

After the Princess’s carriage vanished into the distance, the crowd began to disperse. Not until she reached her residence did Wen Chenqing finally breathe a sigh of relief. With so many people around and the Princess inside the carriage, she couldn’t have possibly been noticed. From now on, she thought, I must reject all future banquets; leaving the house is too dangerous.

Under the full moon, at the Eldest Princess’s mansion.

After hearing everything that had transpired at the Princess of Xuan’s Spring Banquet, Si Jinghua’s red lips curled slightly: “As expected, a fool.”

In the 15th year of the Yankang era, both Si Jingzhang and Si Jingyu had designs on the daughter of the Minister of War. The difference was that the former had openly approached the Emperor, while the latter had known how to plot in the shadows. But with Si Jingzhang raising the alarm first, no matter how well Si Jingyu had disguised his intentions, their dear father the Emperor, upon hearing of the “mutual affection” between Si Jingyu and the daughter of the Minister of War, had promptly granted a marriage decree. It was just a pity the bride was not the one Si Jingyu had been pining for.

Now, with the capital buzzing with the approach of the Metropolitan Examination, that fool Si Jingzhang was stirring up trouble again with such a grand display—did he really think others wouldn’t notice his intentions? Recalling the livid expression on her father’s face in the palace today when he heard the news, the smile on Si Jinghua’s lips deepened with unfathomable meaning.

“Your Highness.” A dark-clad shadow guard appeared silently in the study, presenting a top-secret report. Si Jinghua’s smile vanished. She took the report and tore it open quickly. Under the candlelight, her gorgeous face flickered between light and shadow, her phoenix eyes dark and heavy.

Disturbances on the Northern Border.

If she could receive this intelligence, what about her father? Yet, there was not even a whisper of this in the court. Si Jinghua tapped her fingertips lightly against the table, lost in thought. A moment later, she destroyed the report in the candle flame.

“Fuqu.” Si Jinghua watched the fire as it moved to consume her fingertips, seemingly oblivious to the stinging heat, “The person I asked you to investigate—did you find her?”

Fuqu looked at the Princess, whose expression held a faint smile that nonetheless radiated an inexplicable chill. “Your Highness, I have.” She handed over a note.

Scanning it at a glance, a sneer spilled from Si Jinghua’s lips: “Nothing more than the daughter of a fourth-rank official.”

She remembered the silhouette she had glimpsed that afternoon as the carriages passed—the way the person had kept her head lowered, yet could not hide her clear, resilient grace. And those eyes, which had been fixed on someone else, having been so miserly as to not grant her a single glance. Remembering this scene, an unfamiliar rage ignited in her heart.

Fuqu bowed her head in silence. In the spring of the 15th year of the Yankang era, the Princess had promised to let the Second Miss Wen leave. Fuqu still remembered that night, the stars filling the sky, when the Princess had left the Chun Guang Pavilion, her hands clasped behind her back, her knuckles white. The next day, when the Second Miss Wen had left, the Princess had not said a word, offering no obstruction.

Until Wen Chenqing had completely disappeared, Fuqu thought the matter was over, only to suddenly hear the Princess mutter: “Send someone to Chun Guang Pavilion and find that broken hairpin.” Fuqu knew the Princess was referring to the broken “Butterflies in Love with Flowers” hairpin. She had hurriedly sent people to search. When they returned, they reported that it had not been found.

“Search it inch by inch,” the Princess, cold and commanding, had ordered.

But the searchers had still found nothing. The Princess had then stood there in silence for a long, long time.

“Fuqu…”

“Your Highness.”

“Send two people to be by her side.”

Fuqu had been slightly startled, looking up at the Princess. But in the next second, the Princess had changed her mind: “Never mind. Leave it be.”

Today, the Princess had seen Wen Chenqing again and had ordered her to investigate the woman Wen Chenqing had been speaking with. Fuqu, head bowed, felt a dull ache behind her eyes.

The candles flickered, and Si Jinghua’s voice echoed eerily: “Fuqu, what kind of person is Wen Chenqing?”

Fuqu thought for a moment: “Second Miss Wen is a kind person.”

She remembered how she would help total strangers write petitions and offer advice, and how she seemed to have a habit of helping others whenever possible. Even as someone whose heart was entirely aligned with the Princess, Fuqu could not lie and say Wen Chenqing was a bad person. Correction: She was a kind person after she changed her temperament following the fall into the lake three years ago.

Si Jinghua curled her lips, her eyes dripping with coldness: “People generally like those with kind hearts. Fuqu, if it were you, would you be the same, right?”

Fuqu didn’t know what was written on the note, but hearing the Princess’s tone, her heart skipped a beat, and she hurriedly shook her head: “That… I do not know, I only like Your Highness.”

Si Jinghua sneered. “Are you implying that I am not a kind person?”

Fuqu’s face crumpled, and she hurriedly begged forgiveness: “I didn’t mean that. No matter what the Princess is like, I only follow you.”

Si Jinghua said flatly: “You don’t need to be so flustered. I am, indeed, not a kind person.”

Fuqu murmured in compliance. Over these years, the Princess’s temper had become increasingly volatile. The candlelight cast a long, thin shadow of Si Jinghua that swayed in the silent study, as if it were about to swallow something whole.

Fuqu heard the Princess’s voice rise from the silence, like an undercurrent surging beneath a deep pool.

“Send someone to watch Wen Chenqing. Every move she makes in the capital is to be reported to me daily.”

The final shoe, which had been hanging in the air since she had seen the Second Miss Wen that afternoon, finally dropped. Fuqu responded: “Yes.”

I knew it, she thought as she went to arrange the assignment. I knew that as soon as the Princess saw the Second Miss Wen, she would take action. For the past two or three years, the Princess had been repeatedly issuing orders—to monitor, then to call it off, then to monitor again, then to call it off again. It was as erratic as it could be. And now that they had met, how could the Princess possibly remain indifferent?