The Eldest Princess is Always Feigning Poverty and Weakness - Chapter 2

For example, she might be a test subject.

 

Wen Ningzhou speculated that she wasn’t an ordinary human, but rather a super-powered being created through precise calculations and secret research.

 

The theory went like this: at the age of five, she had destroyed the equipment restraining her, shattered the glass isolation chamber, and fought her way out. She was invincible, and through various experiments, her physical indicators had reached a state of absolute perfection.

 

Unbeatable.

 

Then, she had escaped and happened to be taken in by simple, honest villagers in a small mountain hamlet, successfully integrating into human society.

 

On the surface, she appeared no different from anyone else perhaps even more petite—but in reality, she carried the mission of saving the world, protecting humanity, and fighting the dark forces to the bitter end!

 

During her more “imaginative” adolescent years, when she couldn’t sleep at night and wondered about her origins or why her parents had abandoned her, she would think this way. The more she thought about it, the more hot-blooded and epic the mental images became.

 

It would fire her up so much that she’d stay awake even longer, but at least she wasn’t sad anymore. She felt her existence had meaning; all of humanity needed her.

 

Wen Ningzhou was always an optimist who forcibly gave her own life purpose, and she possessed a strong ability to adapt to her surroundings.

 

She had laboured for the Earth; she had bled for mankind.

 

Of course, Wen Ningzhou knew now that even if this theory was logically self-consistent, it couldn’t possibly be true. It was merely the product of her overactive teenage imagination.

 

After all, she was someone who struggled to even pass the eight-hundred-metre physical fitness test. She didn’t exactly look like a high-spec biological experiment.

 

But compared to the world of the supernatural, Wen Ningzhou was far more willing to believe the absurd “test subject” explanation.

 

The fact that the fortune teller knew her history and secrets felt eerie in every possible way. Her first thought wasn’t that he was a gifted psychic, but rather that her privacy had been compromised and someone had investigated her.

 

Or, perhaps the laboratory had finally come to collect her.

 

Whatever it was, it couldn’t be supernatural. To look at her face—without even needing her birth date and time—and speak so accurately?

 

Wen Ningzhou simply didn’t believe in such superstitions.

 

Better to flee while she could. After bolting away, she took a detour via the underground to get back to campus; today was not a good day for the bus.

 

She didn’t even dare hail a taxi by herself, fearing the driver might turn around, flash her a smile, and say, “I told you that you were due for a bloody disaster.”

 

Her heart hadn’t settled the entire way back. She felt this was a major problem. Although she didn’t know why that person had targeted her, she felt instinctively that the matter wouldn’t end easily.

 

The fact that the stranger knew her details so thoroughly meant either he had targeted her because she was an orphan with no one to hold him accountable if she went missing, or the “laboratory” really was coming for her.

 

Regardless of which it was, if something actually happened, it would be the lead story on the evening news.

 

Wen Ningzhou cherished her life. She was naturally timid, lacked a sense of security, and possessed a vivid imagination.

 

Accustomed to living alone, she was like a young cub struggling to survive in a dangerous jungle alert, cautious, and ready to retreat into her den at the slightest rustle in the grass.

 

Let others be strong; I’ll be timid and live longer.

 

As for that line about “a bloody disaster, not surviving the night,” the more she thought about it, the more annoyed she became.

 

Honestly, what kind of person says that!

 

Staying vigilant every step of the way, she finally returned to her little sanctuary. Only when she opened the dormitory door and saw the familiar layout did she truly breathe a sigh of relief.

 

After her shower, Wen Ningzhou’s frayed nerves finally relaxed significantly.

 

Wrapping her wet hair in a dry towel, she sat at her desk to prepare her lesson plans for the next day.

 

Focused on organizing the middle school curriculum, she didn’t notice anything unusual. In the very centre of the back of her neck, a soft golden light began to glow. Then, the light slowly dispersed, revealing its true form.

 

On the delicate, milky-white skin of her nape, a stamp the size of a coin appeared out of thin air, clearly taking the shape of that protective amulet.

 

Wen Ningzhou remained blissfully unaware. She even thought her own mindset was remarkably stable. Men die for wealth, birds for food—the ancients truly didn’t lie to her.

 

On the way back, she was imagining news reports of a young girl’s untimely death; now, she was able to open her backpack and study with a heart as calm as still water.

 

Her resilience as a “money-grubber” was truly impressive. One can lose their life, but not their paycheck. She joked to herself, always knowing how to keep her own spirits up.

 

By the time she had arranged the schedule for tomorrow’s tutoring, her hair had stopped dripping.

 

She removed the towel, letting her hair fall loosely over her shoulders. She checked the time: it was only just past two in the afternoon. The day was still long.

 

As she put her tutoring notes back into her bag, she noticed an extra book. Curious, she pulled it out. It was quite thick about three centimetres.

 

The cover was pure white, without a title. Since it wasn’t hers, she felt confused and opened it to see if there was a name inside.

 

The flyleaf was also blank, without a single word of handwriting. It was very strange for a book to simply appear in her bag.

 

With nothing better to do, Wen Ningzhou flipped through it. Neatly printed characters lined the pages. After a quick scan, she realized it was a novel, not some private journal.

 

She understood then.

 

It must belong to the girl she was tutoring; she must have packed it by mistake. She guessed the girl’s parents were probably quite strict and didn’t allow her to read novels, which explained why the cover had been removed and replaced with plain white paper to disguise it as a notebook.

 

Wen Ningzhou decided she would return it when she went back the next day.

 

Since she had nothing urgent to do for the afternoon, she decided to give herself a half-day break and read the book.

 

It was a historical novel. The beginning featured a trope beloved by ancient scholars: the down-and-out student and the daughter of the Prime Minister.

 

Reading purely to kill time, Wen Ningzhou wasn’t picky. Regardless of how cliché the story might be, she flipped through the pages casually.

 

However, the further she read, the more her brow furrowed. She realized things were not as simple as they seemed.

 

What she was reading was most definitely not a “sweet romance.”

 

After a few more pages, Wen Ningzhou was certain: she was being fed absolute rubbish by the author.

 

She had expected a story where the Prime Minister’s daughter falls for the scholar at first sight, insists on marrying him despite a total fallout with her family, and endures a life of poverty and simple clothes only for him to eventually top the imperial exams—a sweet “face-slapping” story where the couple gets their revenge on those who doubted them.

 

Instead, the “topping the exams” part happened, but it was the daughter’s face that got slapped.

 

From the moment the scholar became the top scorer, the plot took a sharp turn for the worse, like a runaway horse.

 

It felt as if the author was writing without an outline, letting the plot fly off the rails entirely. Each chapter was like swallowing a razor blade; Wen Ningzhou felt a genuine ache in her chest.

 

Today was truly unlucky. First, she’d met a lunatic, and now she was reading a book that hid daggers inside its sugar coating.

 

Since she’d already started, she wanted to see if there was a plot twist. Holding onto the hope that there might be a misunderstanding, she swallowed a few more “blades.”

 

The scholar was so scummy that he personally raised the ceiling for what a “trash man” could be. Wen Ningzhou wished she could transmigrate into the book just to bash the garbage man’s head in.

 

Once the scumbag found success, dressed in his red official robes and enjoying the sights of the capital, he immediately forgot the wife who had suffered through years of poverty with him.

 

He had an excellent appearance, possessing both the elegance of a scholar and an air of noble detachment. With bright eyes and well-defined features, he looked every bit the refined gentleman.

 

Behind the scenes, he was a sycophant in court. Having gained the Emperor’s favour, he sought to climb even higher. In a flash, he became the Prince Consort, personally bestowed by the Emperor to the court’s most powerful figure: the Eldest Princess.

 

The Prince Consort was cold-blooded and ruthless; he even killed his own biological son from his first marriage.

 

He had originally intended to make his first wife disappear as well, but later changed his mind. Firstly, because the Prime Minister’s daughter was exceptionally beautiful, and he was greedy for her looks.

 

Secondly, she was, after all, the youngest daughter of the current Prime Minister. Although she had completely broken ties with her family to marry him, her vanishing without cause would eventually lead to trouble.

 

The Prince Consort deceived those above and below him, somehow managing to hide the truth and keep the Prime Minister’s daughter as a secret mistress.

 

Wen Ningzhou suspected that the Prime Minister’s daughter was a total “Muggle.”

 

Giving up a life of luxury as a noble lady to elope with a scumbag and sever ties with her parents—completely disregarding the debt of her upbringing?

 

No one with a shred of sense would do such a thing. Wen Ningzhou found the behaviour utterly baffling.

 

Next, she witnessed the author’s truly “extraordinary” logic.

 

The truth eventually came out, but the Prince Consort put on a performance of a “deeply devoted man caught in impossible circumstances.” He claimed the Prime Minister’s daughter was a ward entrusted to him by an old friend; he had no feelings for her but felt a duty to care for her.

 

What a “noble” and “righteous” man. The new Prince Consort actually brought the Prime Minister’s daughter back to the Princess’s Manor, intending to enjoy the company of both women.

 

Both the Eldest Princess and the young noblewoman were so deeply in love with the scumbag that they believed his lies without question, calling each other “sister” every day.

 

Wen Ningzhou felt a mouthful of blood stuck in her throat; she was sick to her stomach.

 

The author was clearly the “keyboard in hand, king of the world” type, writing things with no logic and zero consistency. Wen Ningzhou couldn’t bear to recall the specific details.

 

Putting aside the strict social hierarchy of ancient times, how would a legitimate daughter of the Prime Minister a sheltered noble lady who never left her inner chambers even meet a destitute scholar?

 

The fact that the Eldest Princess believed the Prince Consort’s nonsense made Wen Ningzhou feel the world-building was broken. Was the “power-hungry Eldest Princess” described in the book completely brainless?

 

The Emperor had ordered the marriage, and he was choosing a husband for the daughter of the late Empress. How could they be so careless as to not investigate him?

 

What made Wen Ningzhou question life the most was that the scumbag’s actions were a clear case of “deceiving the Emperor”—a capital offence. Yet, he received no punishment and even shamelessly started a harem in the Princess’s Manor.

 

“Sisters” in one big happy family. The harem was peaceful and harmonious.

 

Wen Ningzhou concluded that the so-called “powerful Eldest Princess” was blind—possessing beauty but no ability to judge character.

 

Reading further, the Prime Minister’s daughter only lasted two years in the Manor before dying of a broken heart and illness.

 

Wen Ningzhou only wanted to see the scumbag leave this beautiful world. She couldn’t take it anymore, so she snapped the book shut and stuffed it back into her bag in a daze.

 

If this had been her own book, she would have thrown it. Printing this story was the greatest insult ever suffered by a piece of paper.

 

As she put the book away, the back pages fanned out, and a piece of yellowed paper fluttered to the floor.

 

Wen Ningzhou bent down to pick it up. It was a sheet of draft paper with handwritten notes—the calligraphy was bold and sweeping, with a hidden sharpness beneath its restrained exterior.

 

Though written with an ordinary pen, the strokes were powerful enough to indent the paper, revealing the skill of a master calligrapher.

 

The handwriting was vigorous. Wen Ningzhou glanced at the content.

 

She felt as if she’d been dealt a second blow. The paper was clearly a plot outline for the story!

 

The Prince Consort was a scumbag, the noble lady was a fool, and the Princess was blind.

 

A true masterpiece of “dog-blood” melodrama.

 

Refusing to trip over the same book twice, Wen Ningzhou quickly tucked the outline back into the book, zipped up her backpack, and “sealed” it away.

 

She took a sip of water to steady her nerves. Reading a novel had left her exhausted. Caught off guard by a bucket of melodramatic “dog-blood” poured over her head, she felt quite dazed. She climbed into bed to take a nap.

 

“I could take on ten scumbags like that,” she muttered to herself, fluffing her pillow.

 

Lying in bed, she was still fuming. The Prince Consort’s actions had made her heart swell with indignation, and she quietly cursed him in her mind.

 

Give me a blade in hand, and I’ll slay all the unfaithful dogs in the world.

 

As she sat there seething, drowsiness eventually took over. Her eyelids and head felt heavy. Just before losing consciousness, Wen Ningzhou thought: Tomorrow, return the book, take the crowded routes, and stay alert.

 

Turning over, she drifted into a deep sleep.

 

She had no idea how long she slept, but when she woke up again, she felt disoriented.

 

She felt as though she were covered by something; as far as the eye could see, there was only a hazy, shimmering red.

 

Her stomach was growling with hunger, and she was so cold she couldn’t stop shivering. It was a level of hunger and cold that didn’t feel like early autumn at all.

 

Wen Ningzhou looked down. What she saw was a bright red wedding dress and a pair of delicate, fair hands folded in her lap.

 

???

 

She was awake… so why hadn’t the dream ended?