Transmigrated as the Princess's Scummy Wife - Chapter 7

Chapter 7: The Cousin of the Original Owner

Although the original owner’s cousin always managed to say things that made Nan Qing’s head spin with frustration, Nan Qing actually quite liked her.

For one, Nan Tianwei gave her a strange sense of familiarity. Secondly, the woman knew far too much she had essentially “unlocked” several sections of the map for Nan Qing in this world, making her much more useful than the System.

Nan Tianwei knew everything regarding the original owner’s family background and even the two lovers she kept in external residences.

Thus, when Nan Tianwei said, “Qing is used to it, right, Dog-Qing?” Nan Qing, though speechless, nodded in agreement.

Bai Yu: “…”

Nan Tianwei wore an expression of sisterly solidarity.

“Hurry up and nourish your body. You have to go to the fields tomorrow. I checked your land for you; it’s time to harvest these few days, or it’ll be too late. It’s getting dark, so I must head home with your sister-in-law. Take good care of yourself and remember what I told you.”

Nan Qing nodded and saw her cousin and sister-in-law off.

the Qinghe Princess Mansion was somewhat different from ordinary estates. Take the entrance, for example: while other families liked to place a pair of stone lions or other auspicious beasts, there were stone carvings here too, but they weren’t animals—they were plants.

Wheat on the left, rice on the right. The craftsmanship was exquisite; the ears of wheat and stalks of rice were carved so vividly that it seemed a gust of wind could blow the grains right off. Even Xuan Zhaoci’s title was related to planting; it was unclear whether this was Xuan Zhaoci’s own preference or the Empress’s intention.

Nan Qing glanced at them for a few moments before retracting her gaze.

As she stepped over the threshold of the mansion gate, she felt a gaze on her. She whipped her head around and caught a guard’s eyes just as they tried to look away.

“Fu—Fuma (Prince Consort).”

The guard stammered. A nearby guard laughed, “Why are you stuttering the moment you see the Fuma?”

Another teased, “Is this girl fancying the Fuma?”

“What nonsense are you talking!?” The guard’s face turned bright red.

“Keep it down, don’t let the Princess or Dong He hear you.”

“It’s fine, it’s just the Fuma and us. There’s nothing that can’t be said.”

“Was the Fuma satisfied yesterday?”

“The Fuma is strong and vigorous, so of course. I heard from the palace maid in charge of the records that the lanterns in the main hall stayed lit all night.”

There were about a dozen guards standing watch at the gate. Everyone participated in the discussion about the night of the fifteenth. From a modern perspective, this conversation was at most a bit over the line, but in this ancient setting, it was incredibly brazen and transgressive.

It was clear just how undisciplined the servants of the Princess Mansion had become.

Nan Qing’s face darkened.

“Presumptuous! Who gave you the gall to gossip about Princess Qinghe behind her back!?”

She roared. Everyone froze, looking at her with confusion mixed with a hint of fear.

The guard who had been blushing whispered, “Was the Fuma not satisfied yesterday? I know a girl at the Red Pavilion—”

Nan Qing: “…”

Why was it that since she arrived here, she couldn’t escape these bizarre topics?

Xuan Zhaoci, Xuan Hengyan, Nan Tianwei, the imperial physician, and now even the guards were openly discussing this with her.

Just how lecherous was the original owner to leave her in such an awkward predicament?

She cut the person off directly: “Men! Everyone listen up! These twelve guards have filthy mouths, have insulted royalty, and intentionally damaged the deep affection between the Princess and the Fuma. Drag them down! Ten strokes of the board each, and one month’s salary forfeited!”

Under her roar, all the guards were stunned. Onlookers within the mansion also gathered. One person, clearly the commander of the guards, walked up to Nan Qing and bowed.

“Fuma, they.”

“Did you not hear me!?”

The veins on Nan Qing’s forehead pulsed, her voice growing even louder.

The crowd had never seen such a terrifying Fuma. They shrunk their necks in fear. The Fuma’s tall, sturdy build was on par with the commander’s. When their eyes met, the commander was the first to back down.

Zhang Zhixuan tightened her grip on her blade, cupped her hands to Nan Qing, and then raised her hand to signal the guards to be taken for the beating.

“Wait.”

Nan Qing stopped her. Zhang Zhixuan’s brow twitched: “What further instructions does the Fuma have?”

“You are the commander, yes?”

“I am Zhang Zhixuan, the sword-bearing commander of the Qinghe Princess Mansion.”

Nan Qing’s expression was grim: “Carry out the punishment right here. Go nowhere else.”

“But… this is against the rules.”

“Who set the rules!?”

Zhang Zhixuan’s lips moved, but she couldn’t say a word.

“Who is the master of this Qinghe Princess Mansion!?”

“The Pri—It is you, Fuma.”

“Rebellion! Error upon error! Listen clearly, all of you! In this Qinghe Princess Mansion, only Princess Qinghe has the final say!” Nan Qing raised her voice, scanning the surroundings.

Half the servants in the mansion had come to watch the commotion. No one dared meet her furious gaze, which was exactly what Nan Qing wanted.

“The one who just whispered that I am the master, get out here!”

“You cannot distinguish between ruler and subject! You don’t even understand that you are merely servants! You twist right and wrong and subvert ethics. You deserve punishment!”

“Zhang Zhixuan, you will be punished last. Everyone who stood out will be punished by you. Three strokes of the board each, and half a month’s salary docked.”

The lanterns at the gate of the Princess Mansion were lit, and the scene was chaotic.

The commoners outside watched as one firm backside after another was struck. Hearing the wails echoing through the air, they couldn’t stop grinning, clapping and cheering.

After dozens of strokes, Zhang Zhixuan’s arms felt like they were going to break. She looked at the circle of people kneeling around her and the Fuma standing tall, gritted her teeth, and continued striking.

The cries of pain and pleas for mercy were unending.

By the railing of the pavilion, Dong He respectfully leaned over to pour tea.

On the seat, a woman dressed in luxurious robes had cold, elegant features. Her amber eyes swept indifferently over the crowd below. She looked at the tall Fuma in plain clothes, her gaze slightly unfocused.

Just… what kind of person was this?

Supposedly, because the guards were verbally disrespectful to the Princess, this person punished them directly.

Calculating the time, this person should have arrived four days ago.

Not yet familiar with the Princess Mansion, yet daring to cause such a massive scene she was quite the character.

But she was a bit too fond of beauty.

Xuan Zhaoci took a sip of tea and asked softly, “Is this the water from last year’s first snow?”

“The Princess has a fine palate; you can tell with one sip.”

“Glittering tongue.”

Dong He stuck out her tongue: “Should I go down and stop it?”

“No, let’s see what this Fuma is capable of.”

Dong He heard the emphasis on ‘this,’ but didn’t know what it meant.

Was there another ‘one’?

The Princess was most virtuous; such a possibility was completely ruled out. She stopped thinking about it and said worriedly instead: “But you worked so hard to maintain the balance in the mansion, making all the royal daughters and princesses believe you are truly weak and simple.”

“After this incident, won’t our efforts go to waste?”

“Dong He, no plan is set in stone. We didn’t predict that the Fuma would beat her wife at the start, did we? Look, I only took a few painless hits, and it completely dispelled the Prince of Yan’s suspicions. There is no better or more natural plan than that.”

“This Fuma, who has undergone a total change in personality, might bring me more surprises.”

The little maid sniffed: “Speaking of which, your body hasn’t fully recovered. That ‘dog-thing’ down there who looks all dignified is the one who deserves a beating most…”

Xuan Zhaoci smiled: “Alright, do I have to coax you now?”

Dong He immediately stopped her tears, changing from crying to laughing instantly.

“Let’s keep watching,” Xuan Zhaoci murmured.

Nan Qing stared intently, ensuring every strike was solid.

Zhang Zhixuan was drenched in sweat, her hands trembling from exhaustion. Only after finishing the punishment for everyone involved did she under the Fuma’s reminding gaze stagger onto the long bench, gritting her teeth to receive one stroke after another.

Those who only received three strokes and those who weren’t punished at all knelt around them. Those who received ten strokes lay on stretchers, watching their commander be punished.

Nan Qing looked up toward the dark pavilion. Xuan Zhaoci let out a low laugh and called out softly, “Dong He, help me down. This play still needs an ending.”

Her elegant palace skirt trailed slowly across the ground, her fragrance drifting through the air, her figure ethereal.

In the past, the crowd would have looked up. If they were in a good mood, they might greet the Princess, but only briefly; they might not even bow. If they were in a bad mood, they would simply glare and brush past her.

But now, terrified by the beating, everyone’s heads were lowered, and they didn’t even dare to breathe loudly.

“What are you standing around for!? Where are your manners!?”

The crowd was startled by this voice as if a voice-activated switch had been flipped. A flood of voices poured out.

“Long live Princess Qinghe! May you live for thousands of years!”

The roar of blessings echoed, seemingly bringing good fortune.

Inside and outside the mansion, people knelt in droves. Nan Qing followed suit, her voice clear and loud.

Xuan Zhaoci closed her eyes slightly, her slender hand raised gently, her soft voice echoing: “Rise.”

“Thank you, Highness!”

The massive crowd stood up again, their eyes flickering as they looked at the most beautiful and iconic Princess Qinghe of the Great Xuan Dynasty.

Xuan Zhaoci walked gracefully to Nan Qing’s side and leaned down to help her Fuma up. Her movements were gentle and considerate, but Nan Qing jumped as if she had been electrocuted.

“Fuma.”

So gentle it felt like a trap.

Nan Qing sucked in a breath and instinctively took a half-step back.

If you get any closer, I’m calling the police!

The other woman gripped her fingertips, preventing her from retreating further. Nan Qing was forced to stop and watched with a face full of horror as a silk handkerchief was slowly pressed against her face.

Xuan Zhaoci stood slightly on her tiptoes, her gaze focused as she wiped Nan Qing’s face. Her pearly fingertips brushed over her skin slowly, as if afraid of offending her.

“Fuma has worked hard.”

Her pink lips moved, her breath smelling of orchids.

Nan Qing was frozen in place, her head spinning: “Not… not hard.”

Suddenly, she caught a flash of impatience in the depths of Xuan Zhaoci’s eyes and instantly snapped awake.

This lady is acting.

Nan Qing felt a bit annoyed, but since the play wasn’t over, she cooperated. Her eyes suddenly welled with tears: “Highness, I am guilty!”

The script was naturally: The Fuma was “convinced” by the Princess’s grace and punished the household for her the next day.

“What crime has the Fuma committed?”

“I should not have relied on my strength to bully you, Highness. Today, everyone who deserved punishment has been punished, save for one and that is me.”

Nan Qing gritted her teeth and lay down on the long bench, gesturing to two guards: “I, Nan Qing, have repeatedly offended Your Highness, showed disrespect, and spoke insolently. I deserve punishment.”

“Your Highness, punish me however much you see fit!”

She sounded heroic, like someone downing a bowl of wine.

“The Fuma is my spouse; domestic matters behind closed doors should not be punished. However, the Fuma is righteous and leads by example, serving as a model for everyone in the Qinghe Princess Mansion. Has everyone seen this?”

The crowd responded in unison.

“The blows on the Fuma’s body hurt my heart. How could I bear to let the Fuma receive so many strokes?” The beauty’s voice was tender.

Nan Qing felt a surge of joy.

Of course, look at how much I’ve respected you these past few days.

Xuan Zhaoci noticed the upward curve of the other’s lips and smiled softly: “Then, the Fuma shall be punished with eleven strokes, and six months of salary shall be surrendered to me. Such a light punishment will suffice.”

Nan Qing: “???”

Weren’t we acting!?

Eleven… eleven strokes!?

Light punishment!?

Why don’t you just ask for my life!?

“AOW!”

Nan Qing didn’t manage to get up before a heavy stroke slammed down. Her scream of agony instantly pierced the clouds.

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