After Transmigrating into a Book, I Was Entangled by the Paranoid Eldest Princess - Chapter 33

Chapter 33

On the table sat a food box.

At first glance, the box appeared quite ordinary, but as Wen Chenqing drew closer, she noticed that despite having no carvings or inlays, it possessed a uniform luster under the candlelight. It was clearly made of expensive material.

Who put this here? Wen Chenqing wondered. She had been moving in and out of the room all evening and hadn’t seen it—had she simply not noticed it?

It wasn’t late yet, but because she and Lu Mingjuan had to rise early the next morning for the examination, the lights in the courtyard had been extinguished early. Wen Chenqing peered outside, hesitated for a moment, and then reached out to open the box.

Inside, two types of snacks were neatly arranged. On the left were several small, delicate zongzi (sticky rice dumplings), the reed leaves bound with meticulous precision; on the right were a few snow-white cakes, emitting a faint aroma of rice and sweetness. Both the zongzi and the white rice cakes were still warm, as if they had been freshly prepared not long ago.

While these were common items, their appearance at this particular moment felt like a deliberate omen of good luck. Had Yinxing prepared them for her? Wen Chenqing’s gaze lingered on the box, and she inwardly dismissed that possibility. Perhaps it was a secret surprise from Lu Mingjuan? They had discussed various customs and superstitions related to exams in different regions, but Lu Mingjuan hadn’t mentioned preparing anything. Wen Chenqing felt a pang of guilt; she wondered if it would be okay to make it up to her after the exam.

Carrying that sense of guilt, Wen Chenqing picked up a “top scholar cake” and gently broke it open. Inside was a layer of finely ground, perfectly sweetened red bean paste, fragrant and enticing. She took a bite with a heart full of gratitude, and her eyes brightened slightly. Where did Lu Mingjuan buy these? They are surprisingly delicious.

After finishing the cake, she picked up one of the heavy zongzi. As she unwrapped the reed leaves, the sweet aroma of the sticky rice whetted her appetite again. She took a bite, and the texture was incredibly rich: the fragrance of sticky rice, the sweetness of red dates, and the savory, oily saltiness of egg yolks.

Wen Chenqing, her palate thoroughly satisfied, lowered her gaze. Two golden, glistening egg yolks, still bearing the marks of her teeth, stared back at her.

“…”

She stopped chewing, bringing the quarter-bitten zongzi closer to her eyes for a better look. There were two egg yolks. No mistake.

Abruptly, goosebumps rose on her arms beneath her nightclothes. A zongzi of this size usually held only one yolk; adding red dates and sticky rice would have already filled it. Stuffing two inside was truly abnormal. She instinctively set the bitten zongzi aside, unwrapped another one, and took a bite. She looked down—two egg yolks again. They were golden in color and of excellent quality; they had clearly been prepared with specific intent.

Her eyes drifted to the others. Were the rest of them double-yolk zongzi as well? Driven by an impulse she couldn’t name, she unwrapped every single one and took a bite out of each.

“…”

Looking at the rows of double-yolk zongzi, Wen Chenqing took a deep breath. She had spent the Dragon Boat Festival with Lu Mingjuan before; Lu Mingjuan couldn’t possibly have made these savory-sweet zongzi. They both preferred sweet ones. And the double yolks…

She inhaled sharply. Perhaps only someone from the modern era would understand the double-yolk symbolism. An image flashed through her mind, and the moment the name associated with it appeared, she instinctively denied it.

Impossible. Given her temperament, how could she be this low-key? If she had spotted her in the capital and kept tabs on her, given her overbearing and obsessive nature, there was no way she would allow her to live in such quiet anonymity.

This is cursed. Wen Chenqing pursed her lips, feeling an urge to induce vomiting. If she ate something of unknown origin, would it affect her exam the next day? Her gaze glided over the rows of zongzi and the neatly stacked “scholar cakes,” her feelings a tangled knot of complexity.

Before she transmigrated, when she was taking the college entrance exam, some of her classmates’ parents would specifically make or buy these two items, just for a bit of luck. But back then, her younger sister had been sick with a fever, and with the stress of the exam, her parents had been too overwhelmed to remember—and Wen Chenqing hadn’t brought it up. She didn’t really believe in such things, but seeing others have what she lacked left a lingering sense of loss.

After her scores came out and she was accepted into her ideal school, it became clear that such things had no real impact. Yet, the memory—which she thought she had long forgotten—had left a mark. She only remembered it again after she and “A-Jin” had confessed their feelings. They had been chatting about exams, and she had mentioned it casually. That was when she realized how deeply that small incident had stayed with her; even years later, the shadow of regret remained.

And what had A-Jin said then? She had leaned against her shoulder, stroked her face, and said tenderly: “In the future, I can prepare them for A-Qing.”

In that moment, Wen Chenqing’s heart had melted completely. But it was all a false, fleeting dream. The real person would never be like A-Jin.

Since the weather wasn’t hot, these things wouldn’t spoil overnight. Wen Chenqing packed them away, pushed aside her chaotic emotions, extinguished the candle, and climbed into bed.

In her sleep, Wen Chenqing dreamt.

In a chaotic, featureless darkness, a pair of fair arms suddenly appeared. They materialized through swirling steam, sleeves rolled up, filling emerald reed leaves with translucent sticky rice. Beside her were a bowl of shimmering red dates and a dish of golden egg yolks.

From a third-person perspective, Wen Chenqing watched the person’s fingertips hovering over the dishes, picking and choosing with fastidious care until she selected two egg yolks nearly identical in size and color, placing them side-by-side onto the bed of rice and a single date. Then came the wrapping and the binding with hemp twine. Each zongzi was tied firmly and symmetrically.

The scene shifted. She saw those slender hands steaming rice cakes. As the steam curled around them, the person reached out to test the temperature of the steamer but recoiled instantly, her fingertips reddened by the heat, quickly pressing them to her earlobe.

Wen Chenqing in the dream froze. That motion… and— Her gaze locked onto the wrist revealed by the sliding sleeve—above the pulse, a small red mole pulsed with every breath. The image locked, blurred, and dissolved.

As she applied ointment to the reddened fingertips, Fuqu felt a pang of heartache: “Your Highness, why must you do these things yourself?” As a princess of royal blood, when had she ever cooked before?

Si Jinghua didn’t seem to care: “It was just a small burn. My hand is fine.” She turned to Han Dan: “What about the records from the last two days? Present them.” With the Metropolitan Examination approaching and her responsibilities as Chief Examiner piling up, she decided to review the reports now.

Scanning the pages, Si Jinghua’s expression remained indifferent until she saw one line: The daughter of the fourth-rank official gave Wen Chenqing a jade pendant she had carved herself.

The next instant, with a sharp rip, the corner of the paper documenting the incident was torn away by her own hand. Si Jinghua seemed not to notice, her eyes dark and deep as she stared at the words. The candles in the hall crackled, casting sharp, distinct contours on her side profile, a beauty so cold it was bordering on lethal.

Fuqu and Han Dan, who had just put away the ointment, held their breath. The aura radiating from the Princess was so oppressive that their scalps tightened.

“Carved it herself…” A light, cold laugh spilled from Si Jinghua’s lips. Recalling the note stating that Wen Chenqing had “solemnly accepted” it, she felt a flare of possessive rage at having her territory infringed upon: “Cheap tricks.”

What does a ‘Kui Star Pointing to the Dipper’ count for? Si Jinghua released her grip, and the note slipped to the floor. Her dark gaze fixated on her own ointment-covered fingertips, where the scent of the reed leaves and the rough texture of the hemp twine from wrapping the zongzi seemed to linger. The double egg yolks hidden in every zongzi were a token only she and Wen Chenqing could understand.

“The things I had delivered—did she eat them?”

Han Dan, who had been ordered to keep a close watch, replied immediately: “Your Highness, Second Miss Wen tasted all of them. I saw that she seemed to like them very much, especially the zongzi; she unwrapped and ate every single one.”

Si Jinghua’s brows flickered: “It’s so late. She ate them all?” She had been inexperienced at the start, which had caused delays; otherwise, they wouldn’t have arrived so late. She knew that by the time they were delivered, it was well past Wen Chenqing’s usual dining hour. How could she have managed to eat them all?

Han Dan glanced secretly at the Princess and said carefully: “Second Miss Wen tasted a bite of each. It seemed she couldn’t finish them, so she put them away.”

“…”

Si Jinghua raised a brow, the ice in her eyes melting slightly. She tapped her fingertips on the desk, producing a dull, rhythmic thud. From Han Dan’s description, she had naturally deduced Wen Chenqing’s intentions. She must have realized the significance of the “double yolks,” as that was something she had once spoken of herself.

Si Jinghua’s mood improved in a subtle, slight way. But the moment she remembered Wen Chenqing solemnly tucking away that other person’s gift, she felt a sensation like ants gnawing at her chest.

Fine. Take it slow. Don’t be too hasty. Si Jinghua subconsciously rubbed her ointment-coated fingertips and murmured: “You had better be obedient, or I won’t be able to keep my patience…”

Outside, the pitch-black night swallowed all activity, leaving only the sound of breathing.

Wen Chenqing woke with a jolt. Outside the window, silence reigned. Her heart was beating violently and uncontrollably in her chest; every detail of the dream was terrifyingly vivid, especially the red mark on the other woman’s fingertips and the red mole on her fair wrist.

Wen Chenqing slowly sat up, her gaze fixed in the darkness on the spot where the food box sat. Her throat felt tight.

That person… that person really is like a ghost that refuses to go away! After being apart for so long, she has coiled around me like a python. She actually called me a ghost? The real ghost should look in the mirror! Wen Chenqing smoothed her breathing, the goosebumps slowly receding. She desperately ignored the faint, almost imperceptible crack that had formed deep within her heart now that her suspicions had been confirmed.

Whatever her goal is, let it be. Perhaps she hadn’t completely lost her conscience, and after too many lies, she suddenly wanted to accumulate some merit?

Sleep! Nothing can interfere with my precious pre-exam rest!