Chapter 2
Consummating a marriage with Prince Zhao was a scenario that had never crossed Chi Ying’s mind.
Her father and stepmother, desperate to keep her compliant, had carefully omitted any mention of the Prince’s ruthless and erratic nature. Yet, the residence was thick with whispers. Seeing her legitimate sister, Chi Yingyue, lapse into fits of terror at the mere mention of his name, Chi Ying knew the truth: Prince Zhao was a man of dark, violent temperament.
It was said that after he lost his sight, his volatility only grew. Rumors suggested that the women dragged from his chambers were never seen again, or if they were, they were unrecognizable.
This was why, even with the Prince now reportedly on his deathbed, Chi Yingyue had refused to marry him. She was terrified of becoming another victim of his legendary cruelty. To save her own daughter, Lady Yin had chosen the path of high treason, using a concubine’s daughter as a sacrificial lamb.
Chi Ying was terrified, too. But she had no path of retreat.
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Her mother’s life depended on the medicine only the Earl’s manor could provide. To back out now would invite a "broken net" scenario, Lady Yin would likely kill them both before letting the secret slip.
Let me just get through this, she thought. Ideally, I will never even see his face before he passes away. Then I can take Mother far from this city, to some quiet place with green hills and clear water.
It was a beautiful dream, but the reality of the Prince Zhao Estate was far more suffocating.
The next morning, Chi Ying woke with faint dark circles under her eyes from a night of nightmares. She had Xiangqin, the maid sent by Lady Yin, hide them with powder.
Xiangqin was a master of artifice. With a few deft strokes of a brush and the heavy gold ornaments favored by the legitimate Miss Chi, she managed to sharpen Chi Ying’s resemblance to her sister from a seventy-percent match to nearly eighty.
When Auntie Fangchun came to assist, she was struck by a strange sense of dissonance. She had seen the bride’s natural, dew-dropped beauty the night before. This heavy mask of cosmetics felt "wrong", like a delicate ink-wash painting that had been crudely splashed with garish oils. But she said nothing; if the Princess Consort preferred this style, so be it.
After breakfast, Chi Ying followed Fangchun to Shouchun Hall to pay her respects to the Prince’s mother, Consort Zhuang.
"The Consort was once the most gentle of souls," Fangchun whispered as they walked. "But the shock of Prince Ding’s death shattered her mind. Sometimes she confuses Prince Zhao for his brother... and sometimes for the enemies who killed him." She sighed. "But do not fear. The hall is heavily guarded. She will not be allowed to hurt you—or herself."
Chi Ying nodded, though her palms were slick with sweat.
The estate was a fortress of flying eaves and somber corridors. Every corner was patrolled by soldiers in heavy armor. The metallic clink-clink of their gear felt like a countdown. She kept reminding herself: My face is a perfect copy. Even the Earl’s own servants would be confused. I have lived on a farm for seven years; no one in this high-society circle remembers the discarded daughter.
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"Our Prince went to the battlefield at thirteen," Fangchun continued, her voice tinged with melancholy. "He was a silver-clad commander, unstoppable. It is a pity..." She trailed off, glancing at the guards. "These men are the veterans of the two Princes. They are loyal to the bone. With the Prince blind and the Consort ill, we must be vigilant against those who mean them harm. Wouldn't you agree, Your Highness?"
Chi Ying’s eyelashes flickered. Was there a hidden warning in those words? To this household, she was an outsider, an unknown variable in a deadly game for the throne.
As they approached Shouchun Hall, Fangchun’s face turned solemn. "One more thing, Your Highness. Please remember: the Consort does not know the Prince is blind."
Chi Ying blinked in shock. "She doesn't know?" He had been blind for over a year.
"The Prince is a devoted son. He went to great lengths to hide the truth to spare her further pain."
Chi Ying nodded quickly. Such a deception required terrifying discipline.
Inside Shouchun Hall, the air was thick with the scent of medicine and sandalwood. On a black lacquer daybed sat a frail, pale woman. Despite the graying hair and the sickly shadows under her eyes, her noble grace remained.
"A good child," Consort Zhuang murmured, her eyes lighting up as Chi Ying knelt to offer tea. "Come closer, let me look at you." She peered toward the door. "Why did Qilang (the Prince) not come with you?"
Before Chi Ying could invent an excuse, Qionglin stepped in. "His Highness had urgent official business and had to leave the estate early this morning."
The Consort huffed gently. "What business is more important than greeting his bride?"
Chi Ying remained silent, presenting a sachet she had sewn herself. The Consort inhaled the scent of calming herbs, her brow smoothing. "Fine needlework. You are a thoughtful girl."
She signaled to Qionglin, who brought out a gift: a pair of translucent, emerald-green jade bangles.
"These were given to me by the Empress Dowager," the Consort said, her voice turning wistful. "I intended for each of my sons' wives to have one. But now... I give the pair to you. I hope you and Qilang live in perfect harmony."
Chi Ying accepted them with a submissive bow. She told herself she was merely holding them in trust; she would return them when she finally made her escape.
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As the Consort grew weary, she began to murmur instructions to the servants. "Check the gifts for the bride’s return visit to her parents tomorrow... begin handing over the household accounts to her... she is young, help her establish her authority..."
Her voice trailed off as she drifted into an exhausted sleep.
Watching the frail woman on the bed, Chi Ying felt a strange, fleeting ache in her chest, the ghost of a feeling that she, too, was someone worth caring for.
But the sensation vanished as quickly as it had come. Consort Zhuang’s warmth was reserved for a daughter-in-law she believed to be her own; to the Consort, Chi Ying was a ghost, a non-entity. Still, the woman had unintentionally handed her a lifeline: the traditional return visit to her parental home. The chance to see her mother was a windfall she hadn't dared hope for.
The next morning, Chi Ying donned a silken veil and set out for the Earl’s residence, flanked by her "loyal" maids, Xiangqin and Baoshan. The two girls knew the truth, and to keep the secret, and their own heads, they played the part of submissive servants to perfection.
Inside the carriage, Chi Ying’s gaze lingered on the gift list. Two century-old ginseng roots caught her eye. Her mind began to whirl.
At the Manor of Earl Changyuan, the Earl and Lady Yin put on a grand show of welcoming her. But the moment they stepped inside and away from prying eyes, their smiles curdled into masks of cold calculation.
The Earl didn't ask if she was well. He asked if she had been caught.
"Prince Zhao remains bedridden; I have not seen him," Chi Ying replied tonelessly. "The Consort is ill as well. I paid my respects once. For now, no one suspects."
The Earl nodded, his emotions a murky tangle. He had initially viewed this marriage as a golden ticket for his fading house. Even a blind, broken Prince was still a Prince. But Lady Yin’s terror for her own daughter had forced his hand into this treasonous gamble. Now, the Earl’s manor was the talk of the capital, a laughingstock for a wedding with no groom and no ceremony.
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Lady Yin stared at the girl before her. Gone was the shivering wretch in the tattered coat who had knelt at the gates months ago. Now, Chi Ying was draped in silks and shimmering jewels.
If the Prince wasn't a dying monster, Lady Yin thought, her teeth aching with resentment, my Yingyue would be sitting there. Not this low-born creature.
"Do not grow arrogant," Lady Yin hissed. "If this fails, no one can save you."
Chi Ying’s internal response was a cold sneer. She looked at her father. "I want to see my mother."
Lady Yin moved to block her. "We are caring for Concubine Xue. You are a Princess Consort now; you must act the part. Constant talk of a mere concubine will raise eyebrows at the Prince’s estate."
Chi Ying didn't flinch. "If I do not see that my mother is safe, I fear I may lose the will to keep up this performance. Perhaps Mother would prefer to bring my second sister back? I would be more than happy to return the title to her."
"You!" Lady Yin gasped. "You dare threaten me? You killed your brother, I let you live! Now you play the lady and eat from gold plates, a life others would die for, and you dare talk of 'will'?"
"Mother," Chi Ying said, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "Ask yourself... did I really kill him?"
"Enough!" the Earl barked, his face darkening. "Do you want the whole world to hear you?" He waved a hand dismissively. "She is in Willow Pavilion. Go."
Willow Pavilion was a secluded corner of the manor, guarded by old retainers Lady Yin had personally threatened with silence.
Inside, Chi Ying found her mother. She was still frail, but the deathly pallor of the farm had been replaced by a faint, medicated flush.
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"A'Ying?" Her mother struggled to sit up. "Where have you been? They said... they said you were marrying in place of the second miss?"
"Don't worry, Mother." Chi Ying eased her back down. "The man is at death’s door. He won't last long. My sister was too afraid, so I took her place."
"How can you take her place?" Her mother’s face creased with worry. "You look like her, but you are not her. If they find out..."
"No one has noticed a thing," Chi Ying lied gently. She spun around, letting her heavy silks flare. "Look at me. I live like a queen now, and you are getting the medicine you need. Our lives are better than they ever were at the farm, aren't they?"
Her mother wept, knowing the gilded cage was still a cage. "But your future... how will you live after this?"
"We’ll leave the capital," Chi Ying promised, stroking her mother’s back. "When it's over, I’ll take you to the south. To Jiangnan. Would you like that?"
Before leaving the manor that evening, Chi Ying cornered the Earl one last time.
"The two ginseng roots from the return gifts, they stay here for my mother," she commanded. She knew the Earl wanted them for his own sons, but she wouldn't let him have them.
The Earl grumbled but, fearing her defiance, agreed.
"And one more thing," Chi Ying added. "I need money to grease the palms of the servants at the Prince's estate. I cannot move an inch without it."
"You are a substitute," the Earl snapped. "Just stay quiet. Do you actually think you're the Princess Consort?"
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"Would Father prefer it if people saw the Earl’s daughter selling her hairpins to pay the laundry maids? Think of the suspicion that would bring."
Teeth grinding, the Earl ordered the steward to give her fifty taels.
Chi Ying immediately used ten to bribe the maids and hags looking after her mother. She didn't expect love, only that they wouldn't mistreat the woman while she was gone.
On the carriage ride back, Chi Ying’s mind was a frantic abacus. She needed to grow that money, to find the truth about the miscarriage, to secure her mother’s freedom...
Suddenly, the carriage jerked. The axle groaned as the horses were wrenched to a halt.
Outside, the sharp, rhythmic shing of cold steel filled the air.
Chi Ying gripped the window frame. "What is happening?"
The driver stared at the crest on the opposing carriage, then at the sword-wielding guards. His voice shook. "Your Highness... it's... it's the Prince's carriage!"
The Prince.
The words hit her like a thunderclap. Her heart hammered against her ribs.
Wasn't he bedridden? Why is he here, on the main road? Does he know I left the estate?
Should I run... or should I stay?
TRANSLATOR: Hi everyone, i hope you enjoy this!
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