The Traitor Crown Princess (Transmigration) - Chapter 1

Thunder rolled and wolf smoke rose everywhere.

A bolt of lightning split the ink-colored clouds like a gaping abyss. Accompanied by a deafening roar, a torrential downpour descended. Crows hidden in the branches fixed their hollow eyes on the three people beneath the tree.

“I hate rainy days the most.”

Two yamen runners in brown clothing stood beneath the tree chatting. One of them, the thinner one, said, “Be content. In times like these, having a mouthful of rice is already a blessing.”

The other, a stout runner, was noncommittal. “If it weren’t for having to escort this guy, I’d be off having a good time with Xiaocui. Why should I be suffering here in the rain? If you ask me, the current Emperor is utterly blinded by lust.”

The thin runner’s expression froze. He looked around in a panic, and upon seeing no one, he let out a sigh of relief and hurriedly made a “hush” gesture to the stout one. “My goodness, do you want to die? How dare you insult the Imperial family!”

The stout runner tilted his head, unimpressed. “Hmph, so what if I insult him? He actually named a monster with foreign bloodline as Crown Prince. I see the Imperial House collapsing sooner or later. When that time comes, I’ll just defect to my uncle’s house in the Yan Kingdom; I have my own ways of surviving.”

The thin runner: “Not so, not so!”

As the two runners argued endlessly, a person sat under the sophora tree nearby. The person wore white prisoner robes, their ink-black hair hanging loose, with strands sticking to their face mixed with rainwater. It didn’t look out of place at all; instead, it possessed a desolate, decadent sense of beauty.

The youth had delicate, exquisite features, possessing both the softness of a woman and the masculinity of a man beautiful in just the right way. However, he had dark circles under his eyes and appeared somewhat weary. His pale lips lacked any color, and the white prisoner robes hung on him like they were draped over tree branches; it seemed as if a gust of wind could blow him away.

He picked up a withered, yellowed twig to poke at some ants, the iron chains on his wrists clashing with his movements and making a harsh grating sound. The other end of the chains was held firmly in the stout runner’s hand.

The youth turned his head to look at the two babbling people, feeling extremely annoyed.

He was originally a model youth from the 21st century. He had merely stayed up late reading a novel and transmigrated into this book. What made him even more speechless was that he had only read the beginning and had no idea what the plot was.

When other people transmigrated, they either got an incredible golden finger or became a villain who could beat up the protagonist group. But as for him? He had nothing and had transmigrated into a “passerby.”

The passerby was the third son of the Shen family. Originally, they were a prestigious family in the capital, but unfortunately, they were framed for conspiracy, causing the Emperor to fly into a rage and confiscate the entire Shen estate. The original host had entered the palace as a companion to the prince in his youth, which was the only reason the Emperor had shown him “mercy” by exiling him to the Jiangnan region to be beheaded.

He really wanted to thank him.

You call this “showing mercy”?

Shen Yi’s gaze swept over the two men. He hadn’t eaten in two full days, and those two would still be more than a match for him he simply couldn’t beat them right now.

The more he thought about it, the more stifled he felt. Gritting his teeth, he swung his hand, throwing the twig several meters away into the lake, creating ripples.

The rain eased, and the three continued their journey. Because of the rain, the forest path became muddy and treacherous. Shen Yi endured the discomfort and walked in front.

From the time of the Si hour (9–11 AM) to the Wu hour (11 AM–1 PM), they walked until the stout runner was famished. He took three mantou (steamed buns) from his bundle and the two of them split them. Shen Yi didn’t get a share and could only watch them finish eagerly.

He stood up from the ground. “I need to relieve myself.”

The stout runner threw the chain in front of the thin runner. “You go.”

The thin runner was unhappy. “Why? It’s just a few steps away; are you being picky?”

The stout runner couldn’t win, so he sulkily picked up the chain near his foot, wiping the bun crumbs from the corner of his mouth. “Got it, got it. You have to make a fuss over such a small thing.”

One after another, they walked into the nearby shrubbery. The stout runner scratched his stomach, leaning against a banyan tree to enjoy the shade. His peripheral vision caught a glimpse of the white at Shen Yi’s neck, and a wicked idea suddenly formed.

Even though this guy wasn’t a woman, he was more beautiful than any woman he’d ever seen. Since he didn’t have many days left to live anyway, he might as well let him have some fun first. If he gave him a few good days afterward, that would be as good as compensating him.

Thinking this, the stout runner rubbed his hands together and approached Shen Yi with a lecherous grin, one hand resting on Shen Yi’s frail, boneless shoulder, whispering lewdly: “Little brother, it’s not convenient to wear those chains, is it? Need me to help you?”

Shen Yi said nothing. The stout runner, his lecherous heart still beating, tightened his grip. “If you don’t speak, I’ll take that as consent.”

Shen Yi’s body twitched. The stout runner was stunned, but before he could react, a green grass snake was thrown directly onto his face.

“Ah!”

A miserable shriek rang through the entire forest. The thin runner jumped up from the ground and ran toward the sound. When he got close, he saw that the grass snake was biting the stout runner’s nose and wouldn’t let go, while the man was rolling frantically on the ground, wailing.

The thin runner stepped forward and pulled hard. After a long struggle, he finally dragged the snake off. The stout runner clutched his nose, screaming wildly, with blood flowing from between his fingers a truly gruesome sight.

Thin runner: “What happened?”

Stout runner: “That guy deliberately threw the snake at my face! He must have done it on purpose!”

The thin runner looked around. There was no sign of Shen Yi anywhere. He exploded in anger: “Where is he!”

“Who?” The stout runner struggled to crawl up from the ground. “My nose!”

Thin runner: “Where did Shen Yi go!”

The stout runner finally came to his senses, scanning the area in terror. “No way, that guy was just here how is he gone!”

His gaze swept over, landing on the muddy footprints in the weeds, and he narrowed his eyes dangerously. “Little brat, when I find you, I’ll be sure to kill you!”

Cold rainwater lashed his face, and his feet ached from being bruised by stones. With five pounds of iron chains weighing down his hands, he ran forward. His legs were frequently grazed by thorny tree branches, and the red blood soaked his white prisoner robes, only to be drenched by the rain. Whipped by the wind, his body felt as if it had fallen into an icy cave.

He crossed the uneven path and his steps slowly halted. In front of him was a large pit containing the bodies of men lying in a jumbled heap, some of which had already been reduced to skeletal remains. Droplets of water flowed down the skulls into empty eye sockets, and a few pieces of blackened, rotting flesh hung from them. A putrid odor permeated the air.

The sound of footsteps behind him grew closer. Shen Yi had no time to think; he took a few steps, pulled aside the bodies on top, and lay down in the corpse pit. He pulled the bodies back over himself, turned to lie on his stomach, and squeezed his eyes shut.

The two runners followed close behind.

Stout runner: “Why did the footprints stop?”

Thin runner: “Search.”

The two drew the long blades at their waists and searched the clearing step by step.

Everywhere they went, the blades pierced through the grass. As the sound of the blades drew nearer, Shen Yi’s heart jumped into his throat. He silently gripped the iron chains in his hand, thinking to himself: If it comes to it, I’ll fight them to the death!

Suddenly, a stone dropped to the ground, bounced a few times, and wedged into a crevice.

The two runners looked up, only to see a white figure sitting on a tree branch. Looking closer, it was a man.

The man had deep-set features, a high nose bridge, and silver hair tied up and trailing down his back naturally. He was dressed in black riding gear, and a pair of red eyes looked captivating. He was hauntingly beautiful, and his brow possessed an air of masculine courage that made him even more handsome than the immortals in paintings—a beauty unmatched in this world. Just one glance was enough to captivate anyone; he seemed noble beyond compare.

Both runners were stunned by the man’s appearance.

The silver-haired man’s lips curled into an arc, his voice cold: “Do you not want your eyes anymore?”

The two runners finally came to their senses. The stout runner, who had never suffered such humiliation, raised his blade and pointed it at the man, cursing: “How dare you speak like that! Do you not want to live anymore!”

No sooner had the fat man finished speaking than the thin one covered his mouth and apologized with a grin: “My lord, we were rude. We will leave now.”

Then he whispered into the stout runner’s ear: “Running away is the best policy.”

The fat man struggled for a while, his black eyes rolling around, but eventually agreed. He followed the thin man out of the graveyard.

Shen Yi listened to the sound of the two men’s footsteps fading, and his heart finally settled. He wondered silently whether this person was a friend or an enemy, just as he felt a cold chill approaching.

The blade rested on Shen Yi’s arm, moving slowly upward until it stopped at the back of Shen Yi’s neck. “Dead?”

Shen Yi had just opened his mouth when he heard the person say in a low voice: “Better that you are dead; if you are alive, I will kill you with a single strike.”

He froze instantly, biting his back teeth, not daring to speak.

Then he heard the person let out a light laugh. The blade at the back of his neck moved away, and the man went silent.

Shen Yi finally exhaled a breath of relief and immediately opened his eyes, intending to escape.

Clang,

A long sword was thrust directly into the corpse in front of him; the blade reflected Shen Yi’s pale face.

Shen Yi was bewildered by this sudden turn of events. He used all his strength to push aside the corpse pressing down on him and scrambled up in a panic. His white prisoner robes were stained red with blood, and his exposed arms and long legs made him look like a broken rag doll. His hair was a mess—he looked exactly like a madman who had lost his mind.

The man saw that Shen Yi could still stand like a normal person and was quite surprised: “Are you done pretending?”

Shen Yi suppressed the frustration in his heart and tried his best to act normal. He sized up the young man in front of him, and seeing that he didn’t intend to kill him, replied: “It was only to save my life… Many thanks, my lord, for your intervention.”

But then the youth suddenly walked closer. Shen Yi hurriedly stepped back, stumbling a few times before barely stabilizing his body.

Youth: “What if I were to kill you?”

Shen Yi’s pupils contracted. He stared at the youth’s beautiful brows and eyes, and suddenly felt a sense of relief. He smiled gently: “If you wanted to kill me, my lord, you would have already done so. Why wait until now? Surely you have something to discuss with me.”

Chu Yun raised his brows and nodded, signaling for Shen Yi to continue.

Seeing he had guessed correctly, Shen Yi pressed on, bracing himself: “A person like me… I fear that killing me would soil your sword, my lord. If you do not kill me, and if I ever make something of myself in the future, I will surely repay you for saving my life today. This will bring you a hundred benefits and not a single harm.”

The long sword slid into its scabbard. Chu Yun: “Not stupid.”

Shen Yi squeezed out a smile: “You’re too kind… If you have no further business, my lord, I will take my leave.”

Chu Yun said nothing, which Shen Yi took as his dismissal.

Shen Yi was like a drowning man clutching a piece of driftwood; he turned and left.

As his silhouette disappeared into the woods, a man landed behind Chu Yun.

The man had sword-like brows and star-like eyes, with a blue headband tied across his forehead. He looked quite young, perhaps only eighteen or nineteen years old.

Leng Feng: “Master, the two have already had their tongues cut and their hand tendons severed; they will not be babbling anymore.”

Chu Yun: “Hmm.”

His voice was incredibly faint: “What is the situation in the palace?”

“The palace is arranging the selection of consorts; the Empress asks that you go over when you are free.” Leng Feng changed the subject, weighing his words: “Master, why don’t we go back? Physician Zhao also said you must take your medicine on time.”

Chu Yun glanced at him: “Do you want me to take my medicine, or do you want to see Physician Zhao?”

Leng Feng froze, his cheeks instantly dyeing a faint shade of red: “O-of course I want you to take your medicine… Physician Zhao is secondary.”

Chu Yun tapped Leng Feng on the forehead and tossed him his sword: “Let’s go.”

Leng Feng chuckled twice and followed in Chu Yun’s footsteps.