The Eldest Princess' Substitute Husband (Transmigration) - Chapter 7

“Since he is her consort, he can never escape her grasp.”

******

Song Jinsheng was still lost in her thoughts when Wei Luoyi suddenly called her name. Her heart gave a sharp jolt, blood rushing hot through her veins until her whole body felt flushed.

She ducked her head, coughing lightly twice to steady herself, then forced a calm expression as she slowly walked over to Wei Luoyi.

Their gazes met. Moonlight spilled across half of Wei Luoyi’s face, her eyes glimmering like rippling water, soft and captivating.

Song Jinsheng quickly averted her eyes, uneasy with the strange thought that had flashed through her mind so even she could be ensnared by beauty.

“How is that sneaking a glance? I was openly admiring you.”

“Admiring?” Wei Luoyi tilted her head back slightly, still seated, one brow arched as though surprised.

“Yes. Your playing was beautiful.” Song Jinsheng’s words weren’t only flattery, but the truth. She had seen Wei Luoyi’s strange and eccentric sides, but never imagined she could also sit alone under the moonlight, playing the flute with such gentle grace. It was a fresh, startling sight.

A faint smile tugged at Wei Luoyi’s lips, her gaze slipping from Song Jinsheng’s face down to the collar of her robe. She lingered there, and then slowly raised a hand, her fingertip brushing across the cloud-pattern embroidery. The touch made Song Jinsheng stiffen with nerves.

“It’s been over a year, and this is the first time I’ve seen you wear this garment.”

Startled, Song Jinsheng lowered her head, mind spinning with possible meanings. But to be safe, she simply asked, “I… I don’t remember. Is there something special about it?”

Wei Luoyi didn’t answer. Her eyes rested on her with a cool calmness, lips still curved in a smile that held no warmth at all.

Song Jinsheng could only avert her gaze toward Dongyang at her side—only to find the girl frowning at her, carrying an odd trace of resentment.

What was this now?

The silence stretched, and just as Song Jinsheng was floundering, Wei Luoyi spoke again, her question sharp and sudden: “It’s late. Why is the consort not resting in the chamber, but wandering here in the back pavilion?”

“I just returned. I’d stepped out of the manor… to find something good to eat.” Song Jinsheng looked her directly in the eyes as she spoke, striving for honesty.

This princess was no fool—better to speak first than wait for her to press and breed suspicion.

“Is that so?” Wei Luoyi’s smile curved a little higher.

Song Jinsheng wondered if she would keep pressing, but instead Wei Luoyi lowered her gaze, her voice light and detached. “Since the consort is back late, you should return to your quarters quickly.”

With that, she left with Dongyang. The moment she turned, her smile vanished completely.

Song Jinsheng watched her slender, moonlit figure retreating, cold and distant. She stood frozen for a long moment, an unshakable unease stirring in her chest. But unable to put her finger on it, she finally let it go and walked away.

******

On the way back, Dongyang carried a lantern beside Wei Luoyi. Several times she lifted her eyes, lips pressed tight, as though debating something.

When they reached the main residence, it was already midnight. It was time to rest. Wei Luoyi sat before the bronze mirror while Chunyue and Dongyang helped her out of her robes and combed out her hair.

Her black hair spilled loose, her fair skin shining like jade. Her face still held a trace of girlish youth, yet her eyes carried a cool detachment, autumn-frost sharp—a calm, weight far beyond her years.

Her Highness was always like this. No matter what happened, she never seemed to care, as if nothing in the world could touch her.

But if the princess did not care—Dongyang cared.

“Your Highness,” Dongyang paused mid-comb, unable to hold back any longer.

Wei Luoyi’s empty gaze refocused, shifting in the mirror toward her. “Hm?”

“Forgive me for speaking out of turn, but… why didn’t Your Highness tell the consort the truth just now?”

Chunyue blinked in confusion, not knowing what had happened. Dongyang, however, jutted her lip in indignation.

Wei Luoyi’s brow arched slightly, puzzled. “The truth? What truth?”

“Of course, where the consort really went tonight. She lied to Your Highness. And worse, she wore the very robe Your Highness had sewn for her before the wedding. Doesn’t that show she has no regard for you at all?”

Ever since Song Jinsheng had awakened with her strange new ways, Wei Luoyi had ordered people to shadow her. Any movement reached her ears immediately. So of course she knew Song Jinsheng had gone to Qili Xiang tonight.

But… what of it?

Looking at her reflection in the mirror, Wei Luoyi’s lips curved faintly. “The consort has long forgotten the past. How could she remember a robe?”

Dongyang faltered, still indignant on her mistress’s behalf. “Even so, she shouldn’t be going to places like that. She is Your Highness’s consort. If word got out, wouldn’t it sully your name?”

Wei Luoyi remained as indifferent as ever. “Sully me? With her?”

“Rest easy. Nothing will spread. Besides, dressed as she was, who would recognize her?”

“Your Highness…” Dongyang couldn’t argue, only lowered her head in sullen silence.

“Dongyang,” Wei Luoyi’s tone was quiet, almost languid, “remember this well. She is only my consort in name. As long as she does not defy me, what she does is none of my concern. Her existence is enough.”

And truthfully, Wei Luoyi did not believe Song Jinsheng had gone simply to indulge in pleasure. Her purpose was suspicious, yes—but not inexplicable.

After all, hadn’t she suddenly spoken of divorce days ago? Perhaps her antics tonight were nothing but a performance, deliberately staged for Wei Luoyi’s eyes.

Dongyang sighed and answered softly, but still pressed, “Then… if the consort goes again in the future, should I still report it?”

Before Wei Luoyi could reply, Chunyue blurted in innocence, “Didn’t Her Highness just say it didn’t matter? As long as nothing happens—”

She stopped mid-sentence when Dongyang shot her a glare, shrinking back.

“Report it,” Wei Luoyi’s brow lifted ever so slightly, her voice soft but firm. “When she leaves the manor, where she goes, whom she meets, when she returns. I want every word of it reported.”

Whatever Song Jinsheng chose to do mattered little, as long as she did not seek death. But as long as she was Wei Luoyi’s consort, she could not escape Wei Luoyi’s control.

******

After meeting Su Ran, Song Jinsheng had finally found someone in this strange world she could confide in. For once, she wasn’t forced to unburden herself to the cold, mechanical system, but to another real, living soul from the twenty-first century.

And so she sneaked out every few days, always in elaborate disguises until even her own mother wouldn’t recognize her. To the people in the residence, her behavior was long past unusual but not unexpected. Their consort had been odd ever since she’d come back from the brink of death. Surely, her brain had been damaged in the fall.

Today, using the excuse of admiring a bridge view, Song Jinsheng had planned to meet Su Ran at a teahouse. But Su Ran had no patience for sitting, dragging her instead through shop after shop until they ended up in a rouge shop famed throughout the capital.

The clientele here were mostly wealthy young ladies and wives, so a “man” like Song Jinsheng looked strikingly out of place. Still, with Su Ran at her side, the shopkeepers naturally took them for a newlywed couple. Noting Song Jinsheng’s refined attire, the proprietress eagerly followed, introducing every new item.

When they’d browsed the entire first floor, the proprietress tried again, smiling, “Miss, we also have a second floor. If nothing here pleases you, perhaps you and your husband would like to see upstairs?”

“We’ll take a look later. For now, please attend to other guests,” Su Ran replied smoothly, looping her arm through Song Jinsheng’s and smiling with subtle meaning.

Catching her hint, the proprietress nodded knowingly and left them alone.

Su Ran turned back to the rows of rouge jars, sighing, “When I first arrived, I thought ancient cosmetics were fascinating. Now? I just wonder when I can finally go home…”

While she fretted, Song Jinsheng wasn’t listening. Her eyes flicked nervously around the shop, unease written all over her.

Su Ran noticed and frowned. “What’s wrong with you?”

“What do you think?” Song Jinsheng muttered back. “Do you realize how dangerous it is for me to be walking around so openly? I’m still the consort. What if someone recognizes me?”

“Oh, please. Hiding like a thief only draws more stares. Look! No one’s even paying attention to you.”

With that, she nudged Song Jinsheng toward the open doorway. But as they turned, Song Jinsheng froze, eyes going wide. In an instant, she spun on her heel, back rigid.

“What now?” Su Ran asked, puzzled.

Song Jinsheng’s heart was pounding like a drum, her whole body was trembling. She had seen, in that fleeting glance, the young woman stepping through the doorway—though veiled, her eyes were unmistakable.

Who else could it be but Wei Luoyi?

Why was she here too? And why, of all places, this shop? Heaven really was against her!

Panic surged. She prayed desperately to her system:

System? System? Got any way to make me invisible? Or at least make the princess not notice me?

The system was silent for a beat. …Host, I am here to assist you, not grant superpowers.

Cursing her luck, Song Jinsheng whispered a rushed excuse to Su Ran—“Something urgent, I have to go”—then she ducked low, trying to sneak past with her back turned.

But of course, that was impossible.

She had barely taken two steps when a soft, lilting voice called from behind:

“Husband.”

Her heart clenched hard. She froze, then slowly, stiffly, turned around.

The moment her eyes met Wei Luoyi’s, her breath nearly stopped. Her hand curled tightly inside her sleeve. Forcing composure, she exhaled and answered hoarsely, “Wife?”

“And what brings you here?”

From beneath her veil, Wei Luoyi’s lips curved ever so slightly, smile faint yet cutting. Her eyes never left the rapid flutter of Song Jinsheng’s lashes.

“Husband, I should be asking you. Weren’t you out admiring the scenery? How did that lead you into a rouge shop?”

******

Author’s Note:
She may seem cold, imperious, and heartless, but in truth, this little princess is a jealous, possessive creature with a dangerously twisted kind of love.

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