The Possessive Villain Is Too Clingy [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 47

The days that followed were not as smooth as Princess Ninghua had imagined.

The premature assassination attempt proved that reality did not necessarily follow the trajectory of her memories.

She had changed some things, and those changes could lead to even more alterations in the future.

Subsequently, the turmoil within the Li Kingdom’s royal family and the resurgence of the poison in her body made her realize that the crisis was arriving faster and more fiercely than she remembered.

Perhaps the assassination attempt on Princess Ninghua had sounded the horn for a wave of killings. The eldest prince died from poisoning while entertaining guests at a tavern; the third prince was struck in the head by an arrow while traveling and died on the spot.

The assassins, once captured, all committed suicide on the spot. Their swift and decisive actions left the investigators helpless.

Though most suspected the involvement of other nations, the only beneficiary of this upheaval—Second Prince Duan Run—was also under heavy suspicion.

Suspicion aside, there was no concrete evidence pointing to Duan Run. In fact, the emperor publicly reprimanded officials who suggested investigating him during court.

Later, the cautious fourth prince was dispatched to guard the northern border by imperial decree, while his elite troops were sent south.

Seeing this, the fifth prince feigned illness, relinquished all his authority, and resigned himself to living as an idle nobleman.

As more and more people began to realize that Second Prince Duan Run would emerge as the ultimate victor, the capital became engulfed in unrest. Even children’s rhymes on the streets hinted that this was, in truth, a blatant scheme for the throne.

Meanwhile, Ye Zhixia, who had expected to be summoned into Princess Ninghua’s residence soon, did not receive the princess’s orders. Instead, she was tasked with performing a dance for the Li Kingdom’s emperor.

That day, the palace eunuch gathered all the slaves and demanded they prepare a performance for the emperor’s birthday celebration.

“The Southern Sheng Dynasty was always filled with song and dance—surely you can put on a show without trouble!” the eunuch shrilled.

A woman immediately retorted from below, “A scholar would rather die than suffer humiliation! We endure hard labor to protect our families, but we will never celebrate the birthday of the enemy emperor!”

The eunuch’s face darkened. “Disrespecting the emperor is a capital offense!” he spat before leaving.

Ye Zhixia understood that though these Southern Sheng subjects were now slaves, they were descendants of loyal officials and held onto their principles.

After the eunuch departed, she reassured everyone not to worry—she had a way to resolve the issue.

Later, she sought an audience with the eunuch alone and secured the opportunity to perform for the emperor.

Ye Zhixia had waited for Princess Ninghua for over half a year, from spring to late autumn. She could wait no longer.

Since the day the princess was injured outside the gatehouse, she had never returned to the stables. Ye Zhixia intended to use this performance as a chance to get close to her.

The emperor’s birthday soon arrived, but Ye Zhixia did not know how to dance.

Instead, she wielded a wooden branch as a sword, performing a set of moves in the banquet hall that were more ornamental than practical, ingeniously pairing them with recited poetry.

She leaped into the air, twisting mid-flight, the wooden branch slicing through the air as if bringing a chill with it.

Then she strode forward boldly, maintaining a safe distance while demonstrating the branch’s power to everyone present.

As she moved, she recited:

“Spare no gold to buy a treasured blade,
Mink coats for wine—such gallantry displayed.”

All eyes in the hall were fixed upon her.

When Princess Ninghua also set down her wine cup and focused her gaze upon her, Ye Zhixia finally stepped to the center of the stage. With a flourish of her wooden branch, she swept it behind her back and declared loudly:

“If one day the world is set aright, my spilled blood shall still transform into emerald waves.”[2]

Princess Ninghua could tell that Ye Zhixia was once again hinting at her to raise an army and seize power. But this was the emperor’s birthday banquet—she could only pick up her wine cup and feign nonchalance.

The emperor seemed quite pleased with Ye Zhixia’s performance. He clapped excitedly and praised cheerfully, “Such heroic poetry!”

Though a military officer, Ye Zhixia was also well-versed in social graces. She cupped her hands toward the emperor and said, “The Great Li Empire shall surely unite the world and endure for generations!”

No one could find fault with such words.

Now even more delighted, the emperor studied Ye Zhixia’s sun-darkened skin—a mark of years spent on campaign—and after a moment’s thought, turned to Duan Run seated at his right. “This woman’s sword dance is quite impressive. How about gifting her to you as a handmaid?”

Duan Run glanced sidelong at Ye Zhixia before replying with undisguised disdain, “All flash, no substance.”

Ye Zhixia exhaled inwardly in relief.

She had come to this palace banquet to get closer to Princess Ninghua. Had she been claimed by this second prince, it would have been a colossal blunder.

But the emperor, his pride wounded by the rebuff, grew stubborn. “I think this woman is quite fine.”

Princess Ninghua had long intended to recruit Ye Zhixia to her side, but recent misfortunes had left her no opportunity to act.

Now was the perfect moment.

“Father Emperor,” Princess Ninghua rose gracefully, a charming smile on her lips. “Your daughter happens to lack a sparring partner skilled in swordsmanship. Why not bestow this slave upon me instead?”

The emperor hadn’t truly meant to foist Ye Zhixia upon Duan Run. Now Princess Ninghua gave him the perfect out.

Taking the offered escape, he pettily chided Duan Run, “Even your ninth sister knows to seize opportunities.”

Hearing the emperor’s sour tone, Duan Run knew his father was displeased. But in his heart, he still looked down on this Nan Sheng slave, so he merely lowered his eyes and remained silent.

Princess Ninghua even pretended to thank Duan Run: “Many thanks, elder brother, for yielding to my advantage.”

As the banquet concluded, the emperor seemed to have forgotten this minor episode, leaving arm-in-arm with his favorite consort, face glowing with satisfaction.

Many guests still lingered in the hall when Duan Run rose without restraint and announced loudly for all to hear, “Such a showy yet useless sword technique suits my younger sister perfectly.”

Ye Zhixia scoffed, her abdominal muscles twitching beneath her robes.

She knew full well—Duan Run wasn’t insulting her, a mere slave. He was mocking his own imperial sister through her.

Little Mi, invisible and hovering midair, fumed at Duan Run’s expression: [Xiaxia, destroy him! Now!]

Ye Zhixia remained silent. The system’s emotional development truly lagged far behind humans.

The hall fell deathly quiet—some waiting to see Princess Ninghua humiliated, others anticipating her counterattack.

Then Princess Ninghua stood, neither submissive nor overbearing, and cupped her hands toward Duan Run. “Elder brother speaks true. Had our valiant elder brother not been ill when the time came, how could this younger sister’s flashy skills have been sent to battle Nan Sheng?”

With that, she walked to where Ye Zhixia stood waiting, tilting her head slightly outward to signal they should leave together.

Private murmurs spread through the banquet hall—many recalled seeing Duan Run at various feasts before and after the allied campaign, showing no signs of illness whatsoever.

“What kind of hidden ailment keeps one off the battlefield but allows them to indulge in debauchery everywhere?” a female general mocked.

Whispers of laughter rippled through the crowd.

Duan Run, knowing he was in the wrong, could only storm off in a huff.

–

Ye Zhixia had just returned to the estate with Princess Ninghua and wanted to talk with her.

But the moment they entered, Princess Ninghua hurried toward the inner courtyard, urgently ordering the servants to “prepare cold water.”

Ye Zhixia, mistaken for a newly arrived servant, was handed over to the steward for assignment.

Upon learning that she had previously worked with horses and had some martial skills, the steward assigned her to assist in the kitchen when not accompanying the princess during sword practice.

After explaining to the steward that she needed to retrieve something from the stables, Ye Zhixia left briefly before doubling back to the rear courtyard, curious about Princess Ninghua’s urgent matter.

Climbing over the wall, she quickly located the princess’s chamber.

Muffled groans of pain came from within, and a steady stream of steam seeped through the door crack.

Ye Zhixia’s heart sank.

Ever since Bai Shi had transferred its energy to heal Princess Ninghua’s injuries, it had lost its luster, becoming a dull, ordinary stone—no longer serving as a guide.

This time, the princess’s condition seemed like poisoning.

“Could it be from the banquet?” Ye Zhixia muttered to herself.

With that thought, she barged into the room.

The chamber was filled with mist, emanating from a wooden tub behind a screen. Princess Ninghua lay inside, eyes closed, her head tilted against the rim.

But Ye Zhixia distinctly remembered the princess had asked for cold water.

She stepped closer and confirmed that the princess was indeed afflicted by a deadly toxin.

However, the residual energy from before had not been fully depleted and was now battling the poison.

The scorching toxin radiated relentlessly from her skin, turning the cold water scalding.

The tub could no longer cool her down.

Ye Zhixia struggled to pull Princess Ninghua out, grabbing a towel from the screen to dry her.

Given the princess’s feverish heat, her body dried quickly.

Before entering this world, Xiao Mi had prepared some basic medical supplies, such as ice packs, for emergencies.

Ye Zhixia laid the princess on the bed and placed the limited number of ice packs—barely a dozen—on areas with rich blood flow.

The ice worked well; the princess’s furrowed brow relaxed slightly, and her temperature dropped somewhat.

But the ice packs didn’t last long. Once they melted, her fever spiked again, her skin flushing red once more.

Without hesitation, Ye Zhixia shed her outer robe and pressed herself against the princess to cool her down.

Sensing a cooler presence, Princess Ninghua instinctively clung to Ye Zhixia.

Her arms wrapped around Ye Zhixia like a blanket, and she even draped a leg over her, maximizing contact for better cooling.

Her cheeks burned red, her expression pained, her breath scorching.

Seeing this, Ye Zhixia pressed her own cheek against the princess’s, switching sides as the heat subsided slightly.

When her front grew too warm and sweaty, she turned her back to the princess, letting her use it to cool down.

After several rounds of this, the battle between energy and toxin gradually subsided, and Princess Ninghua’s temperature returned to normal.

The late autumn chill brought a biting cold, and Princess Ninghua felt a slight shiver. Exhausted, she directly pulled over the triple-folded quilt from the inner side and covered both herself and Ye Zhixia.

After all the commotion, Ye Zhixia was also tired to the point of her eyelids drooping, and she unconsciously drifted into sleep.

The golden sun dipped westward, and the moon rose above the branches.

Princess Ninghua slowly awoke. Regaining her senses, she realized she was lying on her side, embracing Ye Zhixia, who lay flat on her back, with her head nestled in the firm crook of Ye Zhixia’s arm.

She felt instantly awkward.

Recalling her earlier poisoning episode, she remembered how she always woke up in water, her body soaked pale, with some areas red, swollen, and painful from lack of contact with water.

But this time, she felt more comfortable than usual. Lifting the quilt, she saw no new injuries on the slow burns from half a month ago.

She understood—Ye Zhixia had helped her.

Yet the current situation was undeniably awkward.

Princess Ninghua quietly slipped out of bed, dressed herself, and then returned to the bedside.

“Wake up,” she said, nudging the figure wrapped in the quilt twice.

Ye Zhixia’s eyes snapped open, and she stared blankly at the bed curtains for a moment before freezing in place.

“Your Highness, could you please help me with my clothes…?” Her hands clutched the quilt tightly.

Though she knew Princess Ninghua was the reincarnation of Chu Ning, the princess was now a completely separate individual, not to be equated with her past self.

Princess Ninghua chuckled softly, tossing Ye Zhixia’s coarse linen clothes to the bedside before teasing, “A soldier who’s marched into battle is actually this reserved?”

Then, softening her tone, she added kindly, “I know you did this to detoxify me. I won’t hold your offense against you.”

Ye Zhixia wriggled under the covers to dress herself before finally letting out a long breath.

She sat up and clasped her hands in salute. “Might I ask if Your Highness was poisoned during the palace banquet?”

Princess Ninghua pondered briefly. Since Ye Zhixia already knew about the assassination attempt, she saw no reason to hide it. “The arrowhead from last time was poisoned. Though I survived by luck, the toxin wasn’t fully purged. It flares up once a month.”

“Thank you for today. From now on, you may stay peacefully in the princess’s residence. I have matters to attend to—you may leave now.”

With the dismissal clear, Ye Zhixia didn’t linger and promptly took her leave.

–

Ye Zhixia decided to return to the stables with Xiao Mi for the night.

On one hand, she did have some belongings to gather, and on the other, Xiao Mi needed to explain to Li Ying the reason for their departure.

After reasoning with and comforting Li Ying, Xiao Mi finally dragged her weary body and hoarse voice back to Ye Zhixia’s side.

Ye Zhixia immediately asked Xiao Mi if she had noticed anything about the poison in Princess Ninghua’s body.

Xiao Mi answered earnestly, “The toxin is being expelled by the energy of the white stone, but it may take some time—about a year or so.”

Relieved to hear the princess wasn’t in mortal danger, Ye Zhixia began contemplating how to ease her suffering during the poison’s flare-ups.

“Did you bring the ice bed?” she asked doubtfully.

Xiao Mi’s pupils dilated suddenly. “Are you joking? That thing’s huge! My Qiankun bag couldn’t possibly hold it anymore!”

“Never mind then…” Ye Zhixia didn’t dwell on it. Once inside the princess’s residence, solutions would surely present themselves.

–

Ye Zhixia had assumed that entering the princess’s residence and receiving an audience with her would be a straightforward matter.

But half a month passed, and Ye Zhixia not only failed to get a chance to speak privately with Princess Ninghua, she didn’t even catch a glimpse of the princess.

Originally, she was supposed to accompany the princess in sword practice, but she ended up doing odd jobs in the kitchen the entire time. Even the kitchen servants began to speculate that the princess had only accepted her as a slave to save face for the emperor at the banquet, not because she genuinely wanted her.

Ye Zhixia didn’t care about others’ opinions, but she felt something was off about Princess Ninghua.

Back when she worked at the stables, the princess would only spend about an hour there each day.

Now, however, the princess was like a dragon whose head could be seen but never its tail—appearing and disappearing unpredictably day and night. Where she spent the rest of her time was surely hiding some secret.

Ye Zhixia crouched under a large banyan tree and asked Xiao Mi, “Princess Ninghua is our mission target. Can you follow her?”

Xiao Mi nodded. “Of course. I’m already tired of watching you haul goods around.”

The next night, Xiao Mi reported back to Ye Zhixia in a secluded corner of the backyard.

On the surface, Princess Ninghua appeared to be strolling through the capital with her guards, enjoying the sights. But Xiao Mi, who had stuck close to her, discovered that she was actually meeting with outsiders in a hidden room of a tavern.

Xiao Mi said sheepishly, “Those people were dressed in Li Kingdom attire, but they weren’t speaking the Li language. Princess Ninghua’s language skills are incredible—she spoke with each of them using different accents and tones. I could barely understand a thing.”

Ye Zhixia nodded solemnly. “The southwestern region has many languages, and the accents do vary.”

“Those people might be foreign envoys. It seems Princess Ninghua already has ambitions of her own.”

Xiao Mi’s eyes rolled thoughtfully. “Now that you mention it, their features were quite different from the locals’.”

“I heard Princess Ninghua mention things like ‘conscription,’ ‘border,’ and ‘supply transport.’”

Ye Zhixia tried piecing together the recent rumors she’d heard with these keywords.

The Southern Barbarian Alliance had won a battle earlier in the year, yet the Li Kingdom showed no intention of recuperating—instead, they were conscripting soldiers again.

The Fourth Prince had been assigned to the northern border, but his troops were being sent south. And now, if they were also transporting supplies to the border…

“The bow is put away once the birds are gone; the hounds are boiled once the hares are caught. The Li Kingdom is in too much of a hurry,” Ye Zhixia murmured to herself.

Xiao Mi blinked in confusion. “Xiaxia, what are you talking about?”

A satisfied smile spread across Ye Zhixia’s face. “Nansheng fell easily to the allied forces and is no longer a threat. The Li emperor is now preparing to turn around and swallow up the smaller southern kingdoms.”

“Our Ninghua is busy forming alliances with those minor states, rallying forces to oppose the Li royal family.”

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