For the first time, she did not want to see Cui Yiyu at all.
Warm lamplight filled the entire room, illuminating every corner. Gold, stone, and jade objects emitted a soft glow, as though silently welcoming the soon-to-arrive true master.
Lin Yuanjin struggled to keep her back straight as she sat on the chair, her vision blurred by a haze of moisture.
Her eyes were dim and without light. She wanted to hate, yet what overflowed instead was an endless, ceaseless sense of powerlessness that drowned her, leaving her unable to breathe. She could only empty herself as much as possible to stave off the urge to cry.
With no one speaking, the room was utterly silent.
Time crept forward bit by bit. A maid carefully replaced another candle on the table; the tea on the desk had been changed who knew how many times.
Nanny Zhang fetched a shawl and draped it over Lin Yuanjin’s thin shoulders, feeling the chill of her body. Concern deepened in her eyes as she glanced toward the still motionless doorway, suspicion growing stronger. She signaled with her eyes for Sang He beside her to step out and inquire.
Sang He was the niece of Steward Li, previously entrusted by the Crown Princess to tend to the flowers and plants. Now she was the only maid in the room whose name the Crown Princess could call.
Ordinarily, even if there were matters to attend to, since word had already been sent that he would come to the room, as husband and wife they would still exchange a few words for propriety before sharing intimacy; he would not arrive so late.
If he had changed his mind at the last moment, he would have someone come deliver a message, lest the Crown Princess be left waiting.
The night grew deeper. The candlelight flickered chaotically under the wind, like a beast baring its fangs to devour the light. Dark clouds covered most of the moon, as if a storm were about to come.
Nanny Zhang rose to close the window, but Lin Yuanjin suddenly spoke to stop her.
“No need!” Lin Yuanjin blurted out. Perhaps from drowsiness, she seemed a little dazed; her eyes flickered, her voice hurried and unnatural. “I’ll… close the window myself later.”
“Alright.” Nanny Zhang did not think much of it, only assuming she wanted some fresh air, but still adjusted the window slightly out of concern that she might catch a chill. Seeing that the maid had yet to return, an ominous feeling rose in her heart, and she asked, “Would the Crown Princess like to rest for a while?”
At this point, she no longer dared to say that the Crown Prince might arrive shortly.
“Thank you for your concern, Nanny, but I cannot sleep.” Lin Yuanjin smiled as if unconcerned, though the fingers in front of her tightened uneasily, tangling together as if tying knots.
She felt that perhaps her wish had come true—perhaps something had indeed happened along the way, causing the Crown Prince to stop and turn toward someone else.
But even if she escaped today, could she escape tomorrow?
Lin Yuanjin did not know, but at this moment she was already overwhelmed and had no mind to think about what came next.
Hurried footsteps came from the doorway, so frantic that all sense of decorum was lost.
But now, no one cared about such rules.
Seeing this, Nanny Zhang waved her hand, dismissing the serving maids at her side.
Sang He rushed in, hastily giving a bow, her expression anxious as she looked at Lin Yuanjin. Seeing the question in her young, delicate face, she quickly said, “Your Highness, your elder sister came this afternoon, claiming she had received your word to visit you—did you know?”
“Lin Weiyin?” Lin Yuanjin froze, clearly unaware of this. She immediately realized something and said with certainty, “The people of the residence let her in.”
Lin Weiyin had always been adept at putting on a show. Moreover, she was indeed Lin Yuanjin’s full-blood elder sister. The way she spoke made it sound entirely convincing—ordinary people would not dare stop her.
The day before yesterday, the Crown Princess had just returned to her family home; now, for sisters to have a private conversation was only natural.
Nanny Zhang’s face darkened like the bottom of a scorched pot, turning iron-blue.
She had seen many things—how could she not guess what had happened? Even if there were conflicts within noble households, they would not easily let outsiders see them. Yet this had given those with vile intentions an opening.
For sisters to contend over a husband was already disgraceful, yet Lin Weiyin, an unmarried legitimate daughter, had actually set her sights on her younger sister who was now the Crown Princess. One could only wonder how the Lin family had raised her—truly despicable.
No wonder the Emperor had chosen Lin Yuanjin as Crown Princess.
“His Highness the Crown Prince was already on the way half an hour ago,” Sang He said timidly, hesitantly. “But your elder sister, with just a few words, led him away… he is now in the warm pavilion…”
She did not continue.
This matter was not honorable, and few people knew of it. Sang He had inquired for quite some time, and only after asking Steward Li did she finally learn the truth from him.
Nanny Zhang looked toward Lin Yuanjin, who sat there in a daze, and had no choice but to call out to her, bringing her back to her senses, her own expression full of worry.
The Crown Prince had always been someone who understood priorities—how could he now fail to distinguish what mattered?!
Lin Yuanjin slowly loosened her tightly clenched hands. A faint smile appeared on her face, as though she had caught her breath. Looking at Sang He, she asked, “No one else knows about this, right?”
Sang He nodded heavily.
“Good. This matter must not be spread.” Lin Yuanjin nodded, her voice soft. “It’s late—Sang He, you should go rest as well.”
“Yes.” Sang He lowered her head and quickly left the room.
Only the two of them remained.
Lin Yuanjin gradually relaxed her shoulders, only then realizing how stiff and sore her body had become. Now, it felt as though the rope suspending her had loosened, allowing her to breathe again.
“Crown Princess,” Nanny Zhang looked at her with concern. “What are your plans?”
“My elder sister has always been capable—I simply did not expect her to be so… unscrupulous?” Lin Yuanjin hesitated for a moment, then met Nanny Zhang’s gaze and raised a smile as if it did not matter. “We will wait for His Highness to tell me his intentions, and deal with it then.”
Yet the more Lin Yuanjin acted this way, the more Nanny Zhang felt it was an act; who knew how bitter she must feel inside.
“The Crown Prince has only been momentarily bewitched by some fox-spirit temptress. You are the Crown Princess—no matter what, others cannot surpass—” Nanny Zhang’s voice suddenly went hoarse.
She saw that Lin Yuanjin was clearly smiling, yet crystal tears welled up from her eyes, sliding down her cheeks.
A sudden clap of thunder exploded across the sky outside the window, deafening.
A flash of stark white lightning instantly lit their faces pale.
Through Nanny Zhang’s worried gaze, Lin Yuanjin noticed her own abnormality. She raised her hand and touched her face, only to feel the warmth of tears. She gave a small “eh” of surprise, then turned away, wiping them off again and again with her fingers—yet the more she wiped, the less they stopped. Her smile remained, but even her voice choked, “Sorry, Nanny, let me be alone…”
Without a word, Nanny Zhang withdrew.
Lin Yuanjin curled her fingers, watching the tears falling into her palm like raindrops. Her mind turned into an extreme blank whiteness, her thoughts stretched taut like strings, leaving only a strange sense of relief in her heart.
At last, she had a perfectly justified reason to cry.
Lin Yuanjin realized it belatedly.
No one would reproach her for impropriety or ill timing. They would only think the Crown Princess pitiful—her husband’s favor stolen by her own elder sister—leaving her to weep alone in her room until dawn.
The sourness she had suppressed for so long finally burst forth like a flood breaking its banks, able at last to take form, pouring out from her reddened eyes, falling in transparent streams without end.
Lin Yuanjin did not know that sorrow could stack layer upon layer, like a thousand-jin cauldron pressing down upon her spine, crushing her. She wanted to be happy—happy that the elder sister who had once tried to kill her had, out of selfish desire, blocked a night for her. Yet what surged within her was all the bitterness, large and small, from the past.
In her previous life, she had studied hard, wanting to get into a good school, constantly proving her worth, all to avoid being sold off for a bride price.
She once had a small dream—to eat her favorite crispy pork ribs openly and to her fill, without having to lower her head and pretend not to care just because her younger brother wanted them too, without even daring to look at them an extra moment.
Yet after transmigrating, confined within the inner residence, no matter how hard she tried, she could not escape the words: “parents’ command, matchmaker’s words.”
She became proper in all things, no longer caring about reputation. Even when married off in a family alliance, she only hoped to live peacefully, not to be humiliated or tormented.
But in the end, she obtained none of it.
Lin Yuanjin could not even speak out, could not say that she did not want what happened in the bedchamber to be seen by others—because she was never supposed to know that such a person existed.
The suppressed sobs grew louder as her body collapsed, like the mournful cry of a beast or bird stretching its neck—if she missed this moment, there would be no next.
Lin Yuanjin pressed both hands to her face, her fingertips reddening with force. She cried until she could scarcely breathe, as though she wanted to vomit out all the bitterness she had endured in one go. Her entire body trembled without end; her already slender, frail frame seemed as if it might shatter.
The splendid residence, the resplendent imperial palace—all felt like an abyss enclosing her, silent and deathly still, cold and pitch-dark, and she did not even dare entertain the thought of escape.
Heavy clouds covered the moon, turning the sky into a suffocating black. The rain went from a light drizzle to a torrential downpour in an instant, falling like a curtain.
It had begun to rain.
Lin Yuanjin’s nose felt blocked; she could not breathe through it and could only exhale through her throat, coughing as she fumbled for a handkerchief, her vision misted over so that she could not even find where it was.
A dark figure reached the window ledge, silently leaping in, dropping to one knee beside Lin Yuanjin, and handed her a handkerchief faintly scented with soap.
Lin Yuanjin’s shoulders stiffened. The haze before her eyes blurred the youth’s features into something indistinct. After a pause, her hand moved toward his, but unable to judge the position properly, her fingertips brushed against his cold, rain-damp wrist bone.
Both of them froze at once, yet neither reacted.
“Outside, aside from me, there are no other shadow guards,” the youth’s voice was unpracticed and light as a feather as he spoke. “They are all guarding the Crown Prince now.”
Lin Yuanjin came back to herself and nodded quietly. Using the handkerchief, she wiped her tear-streaked eyes and cheeks, instantly smearing the once-clean cloth with red and white powder.
She did not dare look at what her face must look like now. She could only wipe little by little, yet from the unnatural force, her cheeks and the corners of her eyes were rubbed red.
Lin Yuanjin should have called for the maids to bring hot water to wash her face, yet neither she nor Cui Yiyu spoke.
He was the only one who knew that Lin Yuanjin was not crying because the Crown Prince had gone to favor Lin Weiyin.
