After Transmigrating Into a Cannon Fodder, I Got a Happy Ending with the Female Lead [Transmigration Into a Novel] - Chapter 10

Cui Ping stood not far away, clearly enjoying the farce. When she noticed Yue Xi glancing at her, she gave a greasy smile.

Yue Xi was utterly disgusted and quickly withdrew her gaze. She said firmly to Chen Wu:
“Absolutely not. I swear.”

Chen Wu was a simple-minded love-brain. Since Yue Xi said so, she believed her and didn’t make a fuss.

But Cui Ping thought the fire wasn’t strong enough and deliberately stirred things up:
“So what Little Wu means is—you think I’m lying, right?”

Usually Chen Wu was eloquent, but in front of Cui Ping, she was always firmly suppressed.
“No, Sister Ping, how could you think that?”

Cui Ping walked closer, casting a meaningful glance at Yue Xi, her eyes sharp and calculating.
“Perhaps I really was drunk last night and wronged Miss Yue. But I clearly remember…it was Miss Yue who leaned over first.”

Though Chen Wu didn’t blame Yue Xi, she trusted her lover more, and her gaze toward Yue Xi grew complicated.

Yue Xi was so furious she laughed. She asked Chen Wu:
“Princess, compared to Young Lord Cui, how does my companion here look?”

All three turned simultaneously toward Qing He, who was leaning lazily against the doorframe, watching the drama. Qing He remained silent, glaring unhappily at Yue Xi for dragging her into it.

Qing He’s beauty outshone the other three put together. It was doubtful there existed anyone in the world more breathtaking than her.

Even Chen Wu, deep in her love-brain state, had to admit Qing He was indeed prettier than Cui Ping.

Though Cui Ping was unwilling, she had no retort.

Yue Xi smiled and pulled Qing He into her arms.
“So tell me—would I ignore such a beauty at my side, only to seduce Young Lord Cui? Wouldn’t that be absurd? It’s not as if I’m addicted to ugliness.”

Cui Ping’s face turned as black as the bottom of a pot. Chen Wu whispered comfort to her, soothing her anger.

Yue Xi knew the matter couldn’t be settled by arguing. No matter how she proved herself, Chen Wu would always believe Cui Ping more. Better to drop it.
“Perhaps Young Lord Cui truly drank too much and got her memories muddled. Let’s just end this matter here.”

Cui Ping also realized that pressing further would only harm herself. She muttered a few words to save face, downplaying her false accusation against Yue Xi.

Then Chen Wu clung to her arm and said she would take her to the finest restaurant in the capital to calm her nerves.

Watching the loving pair walk away, Yue Xi’s expression grew complicated.
Shouldn’t she be the one needing comfort? She was the victim!

When they were gone, Qing He’s voice sounded beside her ear.
“Have you hugged enough?”

Yue Xi turned, grinning shamelessly.
“Not nearly enough.”

Qing He was slightly shorter than her. She looked slender, but she had curves where she should, soft and supple to the touch.

Receiving her reply, Qing He said nothing—just jabbed an elbow into her stomach.

Yue Xi doubled over clutching her belly, squatting down as Qing He strode past her toward the exit.
“Where are you going?”

Qing He gave no answer.

Yue Xi could only clutch her stomach and chase after her. But the moment they stepped out of the princess’s residence, the scene shifted.

There were strings and flutes, flirtatious laughter, and—hands winding around Yue Xi’s arm.

“This young lady is new here, isn’t she? I’m Chun Niang, the madam. Whatever you need, just tell me.”

Speaking was a woman around thirty, her face heavily powdered, lips painted bright red. Half her hair was tied in a falling-horse bun, the other half hanging loose over one side.

Though her expression seemed relaxed, not even the thick makeup could conceal the exhaustion in her eyes.

Yue Xi glanced at Qing He beside her, stiffly removed the woman’s hand from her arm, and said:
“Yes, it’s our first time here. Madam Chun, please prepare a clean room for us.”

Chun Niang’s gaze swept over the two of them, and she covered her mouth with a handkerchief, smiling knowingly.
“Ladies, come with me. There’s a fine room upstairs at the back.”

Yue Xi followed after Chun Niang. Noticing Qing He wasn’t moving, she grabbed her hand.

Qing He lowered her eyes, looking at their clasped hands. Compared to Yue Xi’s, her palm was slightly larger, her fingers slender and soft, though the tiger’s mouth was roughened with calluses—clearly from wielding a peachwood sword.

Unconsciously, Qing He let herself be led along.

This place resembled the Red Pavilion, but not quite. The Red Pavilion was a brothel for men, while this one was different—both the courtesans and the clients were women.

From the moment they arrived, Yue Xi felt countless eyes on them, gazes burning with excitement and hunger, as if they might pounce at any moment.

That was why she asked Chun Niang for a room, to avoid those fervent stares.

Though quiet was impossible in such a place, at least the room was very clean.

Incense drove away the smell of wine. Red candles, gauzy curtains, and small “tools” by the bedside made Yue Xi blush just to glance at them.

Qing He remained calm as ever—or at least, her usual cold face betrayed nothing of her thoughts.

Moans drifted from the neighboring room. Yue Xi quickly opened the window, pretending to admire the moon, using the action to hide her embarrassment.

Brothel. Room. Tools…

Everything felt strangely familiar. Yue Xi suddenly thought of something and asked:
“Could it be…you brought me here?”

In dreams, they couldn’t move freely. But last time, Qing He had taken her to the Red Pavilion, so it was possible.

Qing He glanced at her and said flatly:
“No.”

A very brief explanation, but Yue Xi believed it.

Qing He never lied to her—or rather, she disdained to lie.

Soon, chaos erupted downstairs. Qing He rose gracefully.
“Come.”

Yue Xi blinked. “Where to?”

“To watch a play.”

They went out and stopped on the second-floor gallery, which gave a perfect view of everything below.

The commotion was caused by Chen Wu, who had barged in with a group, furiously seizing Chun Niang for questioning.

Though flustered, Chun Niang had seen much in her life and managed to stay relatively composed. But the courtesans and patrons were not so calm. Frightened, some slipped out unnoticed.

Leaning against the railing, Yue Xi watched as Chen Wu’s people rushed upstairs. Soon Cui Ping emerged disheveled. Spotting them, her expression darkened.

Yue Xi arched a brow at her, full of provocation.

By the time Cui Ping came downstairs, her clothes were straightened, but love marks dotted her neck, her face still flushed with unsated desire. Anyone could tell what she had been doing.

Chen Wu shook with rage, drawing her sword.
“Cui Ping! I treated you so well—why must you do this?!”

Cui Ping, confident Chen Wu wouldn’t dare harm her, sneered.
“You ask me? Don’t you know the reason? Our marriage has been delayed again and again. His Majesty and the Empress clearly have no intention of letting us wed. If that’s the case, then what business is it of yours what I do?”

“I’ll persuade Father and Mother!” Chen Wu wept, trembling pitifully. “We have a betrothal! How can it be cast aside as if it were nothing?”

Cui Ping remained unmoved by her tears, though she still reached out to wipe them, playing her “gentle” act to perfection.
“Little Wu, we’re not children anymore. Why force something with no future?”

Chen Wu collapsed into her arms, sobbing, begging Cui Ping not to abandon her. Cui Ping soothed her quietly, her eyes flashing with the satisfaction of success.

Yue Xi knew this was yet another ploy of hers, but Chen Wu fell for it completely.

“How disgusting,” Yue Xi muttered aloud.

Qing He glanced at her, eyes calm as ever.
“Mm.”

Just a single soft sound, but Yue Xi caught it, and she smiled.
“Rare for us to agree on something.”

Qing He fell silent again.

Yue Xi didn’t mind. Ever since they had slept together, the little ghost had become cold and aloof, icy to the core.

She was much better in bed.

Realizing where her thoughts had strayed, Yue Xi cut them off quickly. She couldn’t let her mind wander there again—otherwise she really would die in bed.

Because of this scandal, Chen Wu threatened her parents with her own life and finally received the imperial decree permitting her marriage.

On the 23rd day of the 12th lunar month, the Little New Year, Princess Hekang—Chen Wu—married into the Cui household.

It snowed heavily on the wedding day. Ten miles of bridal procession were buried under white.

Yue Xi looked at the snow, even heavier than before, and sighed.

Chen Wu was the type who knew the fire pit ahead yet still jumped into it. Not someone worth pitying.

And yet…there was regret. If not for meeting Cui Ping, she could have been the happiest daughter in the world.

After marriage, Cui Ping didn’t mend her ways. She often stayed out all night, forcing Chen Wu to either drag her drunken wife home from taverns or storm brothels, catching her in the act and hauling her back.

Because Chen Wu had stubbornly insisted on marrying Cui Ping, Emperor Zhaolie was gravely disappointed. Even when he heard of such things, he pretended ignorance.

Later, as Zhaolie’s health declined, northern tribes invaded. War erupted at the border.

One day, Young Lord Cui brought home a boy about twelve or thirteen, resembling him by six or seven parts.

Cui Ping instantly understood. She asked her father if he meant to leave the marquisate to his illegitimate son.

Young Lord Cui said nothing.

The next day, summoned into the palace, he returned to tell Cui Ping: if she could earn military merit, he would allow her to inherit the title.

Ten days later, the army marched out in grand array, with Cui Ping among them.

Chen Wu saw her off at the camp gates, downing three bowls of fiery wine to wish her victory.

Cui Ping embraced her and, for the first time, showed a shred of sincerity.
“Little Wu, when I return, let’s live a good life together.”

Chen Wu, weeping, nodded fiercely.

The war lasted three months, ending in Chen’s crushing defeat. Young Lord Cui died on the battlefield, and Cui Ping fled in disgrace.

Desertion was a grave crime. Emperor Zhaolie was ready to punish her. But Chen Wu broke into court, pleading before the civil and military officials for Cui Ping’s life.

The emperor shut his eyes, too furious for words. The other princes and nobles despaired of her completely.

But Chen Wu didn’t care. She only wanted Cui Ping safe.

Cui Ping escaped punishment. For a while, she and Chen Wu were affectionate again—until she returned to her old ways.

Chen Wu searched taverns and brothels in vain.

One day, Cui Ping brought home a woman.
“She’s called Wang Fu. I met her on the road back. She had nowhere to go, so I housed her in the side residence. But that’s not a long-term solution. I want to take her as a concubine and give her a proper name.”

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