After Transmigrating into a Book, I Was Entangled by the Paranoid Eldest Princess - Chapter 38

Chapter 38

Si Jinghua walked to the bedside with practiced ease. The moon tonight was obscured by thick clouds, leaving the room in pitch-black darkness. She could not see Wen Chenqing’s sleeping face, but she could smell the scent that belonged to her. Si Jinghua sat on the edge of the bed, her tightly wound thoughts gradually relaxing.

But this sense of peace did not last long. Almost immediately, when she smelled the sweet, intoxicating scent of wine mingled with Wen Chenqing’s natural fragrance, the contents of the secret report delivered by her shadow guards that evening surged clearly into her mind: A small feast in the courtyard; three people drinking together; Wen Chenqing’s gentle, attentive way of serving food and pouring wine for others.

The calmness she had managed to maintain during the day, now in this darkness filled with Wen Chenqing’s scent, was twisted into something unrecognizable. Si Jinghua could almost imagine Wen Chenqing smiling softly at someone else, her gestures gentle and meticulous. A sharp, sour bitterness rushed into her heart. In the past, all that tenderness had belonged solely to her.

In the dark, Si Jinghua stared gloomily at the person on the bed, whose breathing was long and even. Why her? Why was it that when she tried to find someone similar to her, instead of finding comfort, she felt only an uncontrollable irritation and disgust? To this day, Si Jinghua couldn’t tell if her obsession with Wen Chenqing was a love she couldn’t let go of, or merely the resentment of a heart that could never obtain what it wanted.

She only knew that she could not bear Wen Chenqing sharing that meticulous tenderness which once belonged exclusively to “A-Jin”—with anyone else. She was equally unwilling to accept that Wen Chenqing, who used to have eyes only for A-Jin, refused to cast even a fraction of her gaze toward Si Jinghua. They were the same person, yet it was different.

The sharp bitterness churned in her chest, fermenting into a dark, destructive emotion. A powerful impulse, laden with the desire to ruin something, screamed in her blood. She truly, truly wanted to chain Wen Chenqing’s ankles, trapping her in a tiny cage built just for her. Si Jinghua thought that she would imprison Wen Chenqing so that, as far as her eyes could see, there would be nothing but herself. Nothing in this world would ever distract her again; she would only be her captive.

This violent thought coiled around her heart like a fast-growing vine. Si Jinghua’s fingertips trembled slightly, as if she could already imagine the scene she dreamed of. In the darkness, her breathing grew heavy. If she wanted to, she could easily make a person disappear from public view forever, imprisoned in a single space that was no difficult task for her.

But—

“You would only turn me into a bird in a cage, miserable and lacking joy, with a fate beyond knowing.”

That decisive, resolute voice echoed in her ears like a basin of ice water, cooling her boiling possessiveness. This was not what she wanted. She wanted Wen Chenqing to return to how she was before—whoever she was, whatever she was, she wanted her to treat her with that same gentleness.

Si Jinghua let out a slow, ragged breath, and the violence and desire to destroy churning in her chest slowly receded like a tide. If that is the case, then I will try another way.

The uninvited guest came in silence and left in silence.

In the dark, Wen Chenqing—who had been forcefully controlling her physiological reactions—waited a moment longer. Until she was certain there was no second person’s breathing in the room, she took a deep, shaky breath. Suffocated me. She stared into the darkness, thinking in despair, As expected, I’m being watched again.

She’s insane. How uncivilized, sneaking into her room in the middle of the night without a word. The only consolation was that the intruder had simply sat by the bed without doing anything offensive—like strangling her again. When she was pretending to sleep, she had heard the intruder’s breathing fluctuate, evidently feeling intense emotional turbulence. She didn’t know what she had been thinking about, but the woman had managed to work herself into a fury.

Wen Chenqing gave a silent, cold laugh, followed by a surge of worry. It was obvious that Si Jinghua had taken the missing brocade box. Nothing else in the room was missing, which meant Si Jinghua cared deeply about it. Wen Chenqing hadn’t understood before, but today, having vaguely sensed Wen Zhaolan’s hidden intentions, she suddenly saw it clearly.

Although she wanted to complain about Si Jinghua’s complete lack of manners, confronting her head-on was unrealistic. For now, Si Jinghua was merely lurking like a female ghost in the dead of night. She didn’t know what the woman wanted, but if she provoked her and caused her to lose her mind, Wen Chenqing wasn’t sure she could handle it. So, she knew that patience was the best strategy.

Wen Chenqing turned over, smoothing out her emotions, feeling a bit melancholy but resolute: she could no longer see Wen Zhaolan too frequently. With an unstable factor lurking in her life, she shouldn’t bring such a volatile risk to anyone else. Sigh. Two years ago, Her Highness the Eldest Princess told me coldly to get lost and never let her see me again. These past two years, I’ve done a great job of staying away. But look at the one who issued the ultimatum—has she kept her word?

The shamelessness of those in power is truly laid bare. Wen Chenqing fell into a restless sleep, worried about whether she could actually execute her future plans.

Despite the anxiety, the Palace Examination arrived as scheduled. The fallout from the Metropolitan Examination results had faded; Wen Chenqing had learned the full story from the letters sent by the Wen family. Regardless of how the court shifted and changed, for a mere candidate like her who hadn’t yet “gotten her ticket,” it was all too far away.

Now, Wen Chenqing—who had never stopped her studies since she transmigrated—finally faced her last major exam. She felt uncharacteristically nervous, trading words of encouragement with Lu Mingjuan, who was just as anxious.

A moment later, feeling slightly better, they both boarded the carriage. The sky had not yet brightened, and the capital was veiled in the deep blue of pre-dawn. After passing through inspections, Wen Chenqing and the others entered the Imperial Palace. Instantly, a completely different atmosphere rushed toward them.

Wen Chenqing had visited the Forbidden City before transmigrating. It was the same majestic imperial city, but perhaps because this time there was a living, breathing Emperor inside, everyone within the palace held their breath. Ah, Wen Chenqing thought, distracted for a moment, am I about to meet a real-life Emperor?

Guided by officials from the Ministry of Rites, the group walked in silence until they reached their destination. They stood in ranks by their rankings, wearing their robes and caps. Then, the whips cracked, the drums played, and the Emperor appeared. After the kowtowing and ritual bows, an official read the procedures, his voice strikingly clear in the quiet hall.

The Emperor, sitting above, said nothing more, merely stating in a deep voice: “Begin.”

Wen Chenqing took the question paper. She brushed aside the thought of calculating exactly which year this Emperor died, found her seat, and began to answer. Who cares what year he dies, as long as it’s not today.

Unfolding the paper and seeing the policy questions, Wen Chenqing centered her mind and began to organize her thoughts. In that moment, all her nervousness, anxiety, and worry about the future were forcibly cast aside. Only the exam remained—only the knowledge she had accumulated during years of study, and her observations and reflections on this strange era.

With the sound of brushes scratching against paper, Wen Chenqing finally put brush to parchment. Then, she let her brain run, writing fervently. As she was buried in her work, she sensed someone walking softly beside her. She didn’t look up, remaining entirely focused, her handwriting steady and firm as line after line fell onto the white paper.

Sunlight pierced through the clouds and spilled into the hall, illuminating dust motes and the faces of scholars—some deep in thought, others writing rapidly. When she finished the last character, Wen Chenqing checked it carefully before setting down her brush. Time was up; she handed in her paper and left.

The walk out of the palace remained solemn, but Wen Chenqing could clearly feel that the heavy, stifling tension from the morning had evaporated, replaced by a sense of relief—even their footsteps felt lighter. Sigh. Exams are truly the ruin of people.

The Palace Examination was over. A major goal she had been fighting for since she transmigrated was finally achieved. Whatever the result, Wen Chenqing thought, she had given it her all.

As the main group walked out of the palace gates after verification, the repressive silence was instantly broken. Wen Shiyuan, who had been walking in front and hadn’t spoken all day, turned back and asked, “Chenqing, are you returning to the manor today?”

Wen Chenqing shook her head. “I’ll go back after the results are posted.”

“Very well.” Wen Shiyuan didn’t press her, though her gaze lingered on Lu Mingjuan beside her, especially on those peach-blossom eyes; she couldn’t help but stare for an extra heartbeat.

Once Wen Shiyuan boarded the Wen family carriage, Lu Mingjuan turned to Wen Chenqing: “Why was your sister looking at me like that just now?”

“…” Blame Wen Huayuan for having such an overactive imagination. Wen Chenqing said vaguely, “There were some misunderstandings before, but everything is fine now.”

“Is that so?” Lu Mingjuan asked, skeptical. She always felt that look was a bit strange.

“Yes, yes,” Wen Chenqing said. “We’ve been tired all day, let’s hurry back and rest.”

Lu Mingjuan yawned, her fatigue evident. “Finally over! I never want to suffer the pain of studying again! Let’s go, let’s go!”

Talking, the two squeezed through the crowd to their waiting carriage. Wen Chenqing pulled back the curtain and prepared to enter, but her gaze suddenly froze. As the crowd slowly dispersed, she noticed a seemingly ordinary carriage parked not far away. But Wen Chenqing’s eyesight was exceptional, and she immediately noticed the horses pulling the carriage were powerful and spirited, and the driver didn’t look like an ordinary servant.

Looking at the half-raised curtain of the carriage, an inexplicable intuition warned Wen Chenqing’s brain.

Lu Mingjuan urged from behind, “Why did you stop here? Get in!”

Wen Chenqing pulled back her gaze as if nothing happened and stepped agilely into the carriage. She suspected that someone was putting her through a desensitization exercise. Remembering the palpitations and fear from the first night she discovered she was being watched, compared to now—even if it was just a suspicion—Wen Chenqing felt much calmer; she was no longer a frightened bird.

She was lost in thought when she suddenly heard Lu Mingjuan across from her exclaim in surprise, “Huh? Why is there a bouquet of flowers here?”