The Eldest Princess' Substitute Husband (Transmigration) - Chapter 6

“Consort, how much longer do you plan on hiding there, peeking at me?”

*******

That line hit like a thunderclap.

Song Jinsheng’s eyes widened, and for a split second, she even heard a tune rise in her head.

She had only suspected before, but now she was certain—this courtesan had to be a transmigrator.

The verse fell, and the main hall rippled with noise and chatter. Yet despite the ruckus, no one dared to rise and give a reply.

The madam let her gaze sweep over the crowd, as though she had foreseen such a scene, but still asked with a smile, her voice carrying across the hall:

“Well? Does any young master here have an answer?”

“If no one can match it, then today’s performance will—”

“I will.”

Song Jinsheng rose all at once, her clear voice ringing through the hall.

At once the din subsided. Heads turned in unison toward her, sizing her up from head to toe.

The madam, who had already started to leave, stopped at the sight of her standing. Interest flickered in her eyes. Smiling, she said, “This young master looks to have extraordinary bearing. Then please, sir—give us your reply.”

Song Jinsheng hadn’t even opened her mouth when the two men seated nearby started whispering again.

“Hmph, I’ve read a fair share of books, and I’ve never seen such a line before. How’s she going to come up with a match for it?”

“There are plenty like her. Didn’t others once travel here from far away just to impress Lady Ziyue with their verses? They thought they could manage, but in the end, they never even caught a glimpse of her. Just watch—this one won’t be any different…”

They were close enough that their muttering carried straight into her ears.

Song Jinsheng said nothing, but inwardly, she found it laughable.

It wasn’t just them—most in the hall were staring at her with looks of contempt and disdain, as though waiting for her to make a fool of herself.

Suppressing the faint tension in her chest, she met the madam’s gaze squarely and said evenly:

“Leaves falling in the courtyard, layering thick as my longing.”

The words landed, and the hall erupted again.

“See? What nonsense is this? Who writes verses like that—”

“Exactly, that’s no real poetry…”

The voices of doubt rose around her, but Song Jinsheng paid them no mind. Her brows knitted slightly, her eyes locked on the madam, her heart thundering like a drum in her chest.

The madam, however, stood frozen as if struck. After a long pause, she suddenly came to life, beaming as she walked toward Song Jinsheng.

“Young master, such talent, such brilliance! Ziyue has waited a long time, and at last, you’ve come!”

“Lady Ziyue will meet you upstairs in her private chamber. Please, follow me.”

“Of course. Thank you.”

Song Jinsheng gave a faint smile, clasped her hands behind her back, and lifted her chin high, deliberately striking a proud, aloof pose as she strode past the envious and resentful stares that followed her.

Heh. Even if these men died not understanding, they’d never figure out why her strange lines could win Lady Ziyue’s favor.

But then, Ziyue was a modern woman. She’d never admire these pompous men in the first place.

How ugly they all looked—hmpf.

******

The madam led her to the innermost chamber at the corner of the second floor, then excused herself, telling Song Jinsheng to wait inside for Lady Ziyue.

Song Jinsheng pushed the door open, curiosity in her eyes as she glanced around the quiet room. After a long wait with no sign of Ziyue, she sat down idly at the table, poured two cups of tea, and set them out.

When did Lady Ziyue arrive here? And how long had she been stuck?

If she was like herself… then what was her mission?

Just as her thoughts began to drift, a knock came at the door. Song Jinsheng shot to her feet, alert.

But the one who entered was not Lady Ziyue. It was the madam—now in a different dress.

Peering past her, Song Jinsheng saw no one else in the corridor. The madam closed the door tight behind her.

“Um… Lady Ziyue?” Song Jinsheng asked, puzzled.

The madam didn’t smile this time. She studied Song Jinsheng quietly and asked instead, “You… you’re not from this world, are you?”

“I…” Song Jinsheng froze mid-sentence, watching her in turn, suspicion rising. Tentatively, she asked, “Wasn’t Lady Ziyue supposed to come? Where is she?”

“Tsk. You still don’t get it?” the madam said with a chiding lilt—though coming from her aged face, the tone was strangely jarring.

Frowning, Song Jinsheng watched as the woman ran her hands over her own face, as if searching for something.

This was… odd. Too odd.

And then it grew stranger still.

The madam’s fingers pinched the skin at her neck—and slowly peeled it away, layer by layer, like shedding a snakeskin.

Song Jinsheng’s scalp tingled, her heartbeat quickening as she stumbled back, only to bump hard into the table.

The cups rattled and toppled, tea spilling across the floor with a sharp clang.

Beneath the peeled skin, the madam’s true face was revealed—delicate brows, red lips, skin fair as jade. A stunning young beauty, no less radiant than Wei Luoyi herself.

“What’s the matter? Do I look like a ghost to you?”

“I… I’m sorry—so sorry…” Song Jinsheng stammered, dazed. Snapping back to herself, she quickly pulled out a handkerchief to dab at the spilled tea.

When she was nearly done, she paused, uncertain, and glanced again at the unveiled woman.

“You… you are?”

“Yes. I am Ziyue.” She sat gracefully across from Song Jinsheng, picked up a fallen cup, filled it with fresh tea, and slid it toward her.

“But Ziyue is only my stage name. My real name is Su Ran. And you?”

Her openness eased some of Song Jinsheng’s tension. Accepting the cup, she replied, “I’m Song Jinsheng. I only arrived here a few days ago.”

Su Ran sighed softly, a bitter smile tugging at her lips. “Heavens above. I never thought there would be someone else like me. It’s ridiculous, isn’t it?”

Ridiculous indeed.

Watching her deflate like a punctured balloon, eyes dim, Song Jinsheng couldn’t help but ask, “How long have you been here?”

“A year… maybe more. It’s a long story.”

Her gaze drifted to the window, her expression growing distant, tangled with memories.

Over the course of a tea’s time, Su Ran recounted her past.

She had once been an actress in the twenty-first century, moderately well-known. Exhausted from endless travel and lack of sleep, she collapsed on the road and never woke again until she opened her eyes here, in Nan Chi (Southern Chi), reborn as the madam’s daughter.

In truth, the daughter had long since died of illness. Su Ran was simply a replacement.

Months later, the madam herself passed away, leaving Su Ran to inherit the brothel, Qili Xiang. She transformed it, keeping only courtesans of art, never of the flesh, which only drew more fascination from wealthy young men.

Yet to keep a thread of hope, she disguised herself—sometimes as the famed courtesan Ziyue, revealing her true face and leaving cryptic verses, other times as the aged madam running the house. Two lives in one.

Song Jinsheng listened quietly, sipping her tea, and finally murmured, “In a way, we’re alike.”

“How so?” Su Ran asked.

Song Jinsheng sighed, tugging off her disguise. Her clear eyes met Su Ran’s, laced with helplessness. “Guess what role I ended up with? When I crossed over, I became a princess’s consort—the so-called son-in-law. I’m also the orphan of a fallen dynasty. But the real consort had already died. I’m just… a substitute.”

“Consort?” Su Ran stared in disbelief.

Her eyes swept up and down Song Jinsheng, suspicion plain. “But… aren’t you a woman?”

Song Jinsheng blinked, equally stunned, hand flying to the false Adam’s apple at her throat. “You… can tell?”

“How could I not? Your voice, your face…” Su Ran trailed off, then leaned closer, studying her. “Even this Adam’s apple is fake. Anyone who gets close enough could see it.”

Song Jinsheng fell silent, gaze wavering, Su Ran’s words stirring memories of someone else.

Seeing her lost in thought, Su Ran sighed again. “Ah… but it makes sense no one here notices. I’m from modern times, after all—I’ve seen enough dramas where women disguise themselves as men.”

Song Jinsheng said nothing, but her restless thoughts slowly eased.

Two strangers, yet compatriots in misfortune. They poured out grievances to each other, until finally, Song Jinsheng asked, “So… do you have a mission? Something you must complete before you can return?”

Su Ran blinked in confusion. “Mission? What are you talking about? That’s only in novels.”

“…”

“But,” she added thoughtfully, “I did hear news recently. About a way back. I just don’t know when.”

Song Jinsheng leaned forward. “What news?”

Resting her chin on one hand, Su Ran toyed with the empty teacup, her gaze lost in its green glaze. Slowly, she said, “Not long ago, I visited Qingshan Temple. By chance, I met a master there. I hadn’t planned to tell him about myself, but he read me like a book. He knew I wasn’t from this land, that I didn’t belong in Nan Chi.”

“Later, I told him everything. He said it isn’t impossible to return. Only that the time has not yet come.”

Song Jinsheng pressed, “And when will that be?”

Setting down the cup, Su Ran turned solemn eyes on her. “When the heavens shift and the nine stars align in a single line that will be our time to return.”

*******

Song Jinsheng stayed at Qili Xiang for nearly an hour. By the time she returned to the estate, night was deep.

Guzi was waiting by the gates, watching and waiting until finally, Song Jinsheng appeared.

Seeing the worry on his face, she teased lightly, “Why do you still look so grim? I came back, didn’t I?”

“By the way, did anyone ask about me leaving the estate?”

Carrying the lantern at her side, Guzi shook his head. “Your Highness did not come today, nor send anyone to inquire.”

“Oh… good.”

Song Jinsheng started toward her chambers, intending to rest. But halfway there, she caught the faint notes of a flute drifting through the night air.

At this hour, someone was playing music in the estate?

Guzi noticed her slowing pace and explained, “That should be Her Highness. The princess enjoys playing the flute at night, in the back pavilion.”

So it was Wei Luoyi.

She had suspected as much. In this estate, who else would dare?

Yet she had to admit. The sound was beautiful. Clear as a mountain spring, light as drifting feathers. The notes slipped softly into her heart, stirring ripples in her chest.

It was a sorrowful tune, full of grief and yearning. Listening, Song Jinsheng felt a sudden ache spread within her, moved despite herself.

“Master? Master?” Guzi waved a hand in front of her dazed face.

“Hm?”

“Shall we return inside?”

She parted her lips, then pressed them shut, hesitated, and finally said, “Go rest, Guzi. I want to see the back pavilion.”

He handed her the lantern, bowing. “Then please be careful, Master.”

Song Jinsheng accepted it with a nod, watching his small figure retreat before turning toward the sound of the flute.

It didn’t take long to reach the pavilion. She hid herself by a rockery, the lantern casting a faint glow as she gazed at Wei Luoyi from the shadows.

Wei Luoyi sat on a flat stone, her expression hidden, slender hands holding the flute across her lips. Her white robes flowed like clouds, sleeves fluttering gently. She looked otherworldly—too ethereal for the dust of mortal life.

Such beauty. Such music.

Leaning against the rough stone wall, lantern in hand, Song Jinsheng stood transfixed, swept into the melancholy world painted by the melody.

When the last note faded, Wei Luoyi lowered the flute, lips still faintly curved. Dongyang, waiting nearby, hurried forward to take the instrument from her.

“Your Highness, it’s late. The night air is cold. Should we return?”

“No rush.” Wei Luoyi’s voice was soft, a faint smile playing at her lips. “Someone’s still waiting.”

“Someone?” Dongyang blinked in alarm, glancing about. “Who? Please, don’t frighten me, Your Highness.”

Wei Luoyi laughed quietly.

Her gaze lifted, fixing on the rockery’s shadow—where a sliver of lantern light glowed faintly.

She called out, her voice calm yet clear:

“Consort, how much longer do you plan on hiding there, peeking at me?”

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