A bit later, the entire imperial city of Dongling knew about Emperor Chenghao’s decree to arrange a marriage between the Third Miss of the Wen family and the Seventh Prince, sparking quite an uproar.
The Seventh Prince, Ning Yuzhou, was Emperor Chenghao’s most beloved son, ranking even above the highly talented Third Prince, Ning Zhezou, and the Fifth Prince, Ning Pingzhou, in the emperor’s heart.
However, the Seventh Prince was considered a cultivation failure.
Rumour had it that he was poisoned at birth, and although his life was saved, his spirit root was damaged, leaving him unable to cultivate.
Without cultivation, he was practically no different from an ordinary mortal — short-lived and looked down upon in a world that revered the strong and held martial prowess in high esteem. Life might have been happier had he simply been born into a common family.
As for the Third Miss Wen, no one in the city remembered much about her until someone recalled a tragic event from over a decade ago, leading people to remember the forgotten third young lady of the Wen family.
She was the only legitimate daughter of Wen Boqing, the eldest son of the Wen family. Sadly, Wen Boqing and his wife had died during a beast outbreak over a decade prior. At that time, Wen Boqing’s wife, heavily pregnant, was attacked, leading to an early birth. In a heroic attempt to save his wife and child, Wen Boqing also perished, leaving behind a daughter frail and constantly ill.
Despite her decent aptitude, her poor health hindered her. Even with diligent cultivation, she was unlikely to go far and might even die young, not expected to live past twenty.
This was the diagnosis of all the healers who had examined her.
A pitiable soul destined to die before twenty.
Emperor Chenghao’s sudden decree to wed these two was utterly baffling.
One was a cultivation failure, the other was sickly and frail. Though it might seem like a fitting match, given how much Emperor Chenghao doted on his Seventh Prince, how could he bear to pair him with a bride who was frail and offered little support?
It was strange, indeed!
—
There were many speculations about this marriage, and even the Wen family was baffled.
It was known that the Wen family and the royal Ning family already had a marital connection. The Third Prince, Ning Zhezou, was betrothed to the Fourth Miss of the Wen family, Wen Mei. Once they reached a certain level in cultivation, they would become cultivation partners and pursue the endless path together.
Who would have thought the emperor would grant yet another marriage between the Wen family and a prince?
—
In the Third Lady Miao’s quarters of the third branch of the Wen family, Lady Miao raised her delicately arched brows and spoke to her maidservant Chaoyun, “It seems the eldest branch’s sickly miss has quite the fortune. Forgotten all these years, yet she still lands a good marriage.”
Chaoyun replied with a smile, “If you speak of good matches, it’s the engagement of the Second Branch’s Fourth Miss with the Third Prince that stands out.”
Lady Miao’s face darkened, feeling a lump in her throat.
The Wen family had four main branches, with the eldest branch being the late Wen Boqing’s. Currently, the family head was Wen Zhongqing of the second branch.
In her heart, Lady Miao believed that if the incident hadn’t occurred, Wen Qiao wouldn’t have been born prematurely and frail, and the engagement to the Third Prince wouldn’t have fallen to Wen Mei of the second branch.
Lady Miao felt that the third branch should also have its chance at leading the family, questioning why her husband, Wen Shuqing, wasn’t chosen as head over Wen Zhongqing, whom she thought less capable.
Her maid Chaoyun knew her mistress’s resentment well.
Wen Boqing was once an exceptional figure, and everyone in the Wen family respected him as the heir. However, with his death, Wen Zhongqing became the head, leaving the third branch unwilling and constantly scheming, feeling they should lead the family.
Determined to claim leadership, Lady Miao’s thoughts were interrupted as her daughter Wen Xian returned from training.
Wen Xian, the only daughter of the third branch, was fifth among the Wen family juniors. Though young, she was diligent in cultivation, though slightly outshone by Wen Mei, a fact that weighed heavily on her.
Having been bested by Wen Mei once again in training, Wen Xian put on a cheerful face before others, but her smile vanished when she joined her mother.
“You’re back, Xian’er,” Lady Miao greeted with a loving smile. She spoiled her children deeply.
Wen Xian took the tea her mother’s maid offered and asked, “Mother, I heard the emperor granted Wen Qiao marriage with the Seventh Prince. Is it true?”
“The imperial edict has already arrived; how could it be false?”
Wen Xian frowned, “Isn’t Wen Mei already engaged to the Third Prince? Why would the emperor grant a marriage to the Seventh Prince?” Jealousy crept into her expression.
Wen Xian had long envied Wen Mei.
She envied her position as the family head’s daughter, her superior spirit root, and her excellent fiancé. In comparison, she rarely thought about the overlooked Wen Qiao, much less now that she was betrothed to a “failure.”
Despite being favoured by the emperor, what was he but a mere mortal?
The Ning royal family held a high status in Dongling because of the powerful ancestors who protected it, keeping families in awe of their strength.
The Third Prince and Wen Mei’s engagement was an alliance, partly due to Wen Mei’s remarkable water-rooted spirit, which harmonized well with any spirit root, making her an ideal cultivation partner.
But what of Wen Qiao and the Seventh Prince?
One alliance with the Wen family was beneficial, but a second marriage with a powerless partner held little practical value. If the emperor intended to secure the Seventh Prince a powerful family’s support, he would have chosen a bride from a better family. Wen Qiao was hardly an ideal choice.
It wasn’t only Wen Xian who struggled to make sense of this arrangement; others did, too.
Lady Miao, sensing her daughter’s frustration, hugged her gently, “Don’t think too much, my dear. Wen Mei is merely relying on her status as the family head’s daughter. If your father were the family head…”
Wen Xian’s eyes brightened momentarily before she concealed her expression.
She was well aware of her parents’ ambitions. Her envy made her eager to support them, though with Wen Mei’s reputation firmly established and her engagement to the Third Prince secure, she wouldn’t show her intentions openly.
—
Amidst the speculation surrounding this sudden marriage, Wen Qiao remained unperturbed.
Perhaps she had long since become accustomed to the Wen family’s neglect and her own chronic ailments. Despite her exceptional talent, her progress in cultivation had been slow. After over a decade of effort, she had only reached the most basic “Entry Yuan Realm.” While the Seventh Prince might be considered a cultivation failure, he was still better off than someone whom healers had declared unlikely to live past twenty.
Ultimately, it was the Seventh Prince who suffered from this marriage.
And so, when Wen Qiao heard about the engagement decree, she remained indifferent.
Toward evening, another batch of new supplies arrived at the front courtyard. While checking and organizing the items, her maid Lian Yue couldn’t hide her excitement.
This marriage was truly a blessing.
Though she hadn’t met the Seventh Prince, Lian Yue already held a favourable impression of him, hoping he could be a support for her lady to finally live a good life within the Wen family.
Lian Yue spread a new silk quilt over the bed and said, “Miss, the front courtyard just sent over a silk bedding set. It feels soft and warm; you’ll surely sleep well tonight.”
Seated by the lamp, Wen Qiao gave a slight nod without looking up from her book.
Once the bed was ready, Lian Yue brought warm water, helping Wen Qiao wash up and prepare for bed.
Wen Qiao changed into loose, crescent-coloured sleepwear and gently told her attentive maid, “Go rest; there’s no need to stay.”
Lian Yue agreed, watching until her lady settled in bed, satisfied that she wouldn’t be getting up in the middle of the night to read. She then headed to the small bed in the outer room and lay down to sleep.
Wen Qiao rarely slept well. The pain that gnawed at her meridians made deep sleep a rarity.
But she didn’t want to waste Lian Yue’s efforts, so she lay quietly in bed even if sleep wouldn’t come, gazing at the dark bed curtains and counting the petals on the deep blue embroidered flowers against the moon-white canopy.
Moonlight filtered softly through the window.
The bed curtains shifted silently in a breeze that crept into the room. Wen Qiao turned her head to see the round moon hanging amidst the branches outside.
Night after night, she had gazed at this moon, watching its cycles from crescent to full, waxing and waning, like the twists and turns of life.
But tonight, the moon seemed to carry a strange, ominous red tinge.
At some unknown moment, the entire world seemed to be bathed in red, and the crimson hue spread around her.
Lying still, she watched quietly. The pain in her body led her to believe that the moon had transformed into a bewitching red orb, unaware that her own eyes had filled with blood, dyeing the world she saw in eerie red.
“Mm…”
A faint, muffled groan escaped her lips as large beads of sweat seeped from her pores, quickly soaking the once soft and warm silk quilt beneath her, turning her bed cold and clammy.
In the stillness of the night, within the Wen family’s master bedroom in the Water Gathering Courtyard, a silent transformation was taking place in the frail figure on the bed.
Outside, Lian Yue turned over in her small bed, blissfully asleep and unaware that her beloved lady was enduring the most excruciating and terrifying change of her life just a room away.
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