Chapter 11: Zhongli Zhengzhen’s Replacement

This was the first time in Gan Qiongying’s life that she had been held so tightly by a man. She struggled but couldn’t break free, her face gradually flushing red.

The two were pressed too close together. It was normal for a healthy man to wake up with a morning erection, and Lihua was clearly very healthy.

Not just healthy, but also quite impressive…

Gan Qiongying had never experienced such direct “pressure” in her life. She glanced at the nearly burnt-out Dragon-Phoenix Candles on the table, as thick as a child’s arm, and swallowed hard.

She took a deep breath to steady herself—at the very least, she couldn’t appear overly shy. After all, Princess Duanrong was a woman with over a hundred and sixty male consorts!

However, as she woke up, her breathing suddenly changed, and she instinctively tried to pull away from the “pressure,” which naturally startled Lihua as well.

Their eyes met, and after a moment, they sprang apart as if a spring had been released between them.

To mask her fluster, Gan Qiongying calmly turned away, though her flushed face betrayed her anyway.

Lihua tried to say something, but as soon as he opened his mouth, a sharp pain shot through him, causing his whole body to convulse. A trickle of blood even seeped from the corner of his mouth.

The excruciating pain instantly deflated his previously towering state.

“Attendants,” Gan Qiongying called out, rising from the bed. She drew the bed curtains closed behind her, allowing Lihua to compose himself in private, and summoned the maids to attend to her.

Surprisingly, Manyue, who had been punished the day before, had returned. She helped Gan Qiongying wash and dress, though her face was deathly pale and her movements somewhat sluggish.

Silver Moon followed closely beside Manyue, assisting her deftly without overshadowing her.

“You’re not fully recovered yet. Rest for now. Silver Moon is quite capable—let her attend to me first,” Gan Qiongying said after finishing her toilette, her fingers lightly touching the hairpin atop her head as she addressed Manyue.

Gan Qiongying had no idea what punishments awaited servants who angered Princess Duanrong. In any case, she had ordered Manyue to be punished, and the fact that Manyue could still stand and serve her today meant the punishment wasn’t fatal.

However, upon hearing that Silver Moon would be taking over her duties, Manyue looked as if she had been struck by lightning. Moments later, she fell to her knees with a thud, pleading anxiously, “Princess, Manyue knows her mistake! Manyue is fine—she can still serve you!”

Seated at the dressing table, Gan Qiongying lowered her head to meet Manyue’s gaze. The girl’s face was no longer pale but flushed with a feverish red.

Gan Qiongying felt a pang of sympathy for these young maids. If she had been reborn as a servant girl instead of a princess, she might not have survived the night, beaten to death for angering her mistress.

But she couldn’t afford to show leniency.

Ever since she discovered the eighteen shadow guards hidden around her like surveillance cameras, she had constantly reminded herself that she was Princess Duanrong—the capricious, ruthless, and unpredictable Princess Duanrong.

How could Princess Duanrong possibly show compassion to her servants?

So, Gan Qiongying merely extended her hand, her slender fingertips tracing the edge of Manyue’s brow before coming to rest on her cheek.

Her tone was even more condescending than her posture, as if teasing a pet dog. “This time, I’m sparing you only because you’ve served me faithfully for many years.”

“Recover well and return. If you make another mistake, I’ll sell you to a brothel to sing for your keep.”

Even well-intentioned words about taking care of oneself couldn’t be spoken kindly.

Gan Qiongying’s heart ached with the effort.

But this sarcastic approach proved remarkably effective. Manyue, who had been trembling with fear all morning, dreading abandonment or execution, burst into tears of gratitude upon hearing she would merely be sold to a brothel.

She kept kowtowing in gratitude, but Gan Qiongying, to maintain her persona, no longer looked at her, allowing her to weep pitifully at her feet.

Fortunately, Manyue left after crying for a while, going to rest and recover from her injuries. Silver Moon took over Manyue’s duties, arranging the morning meal—or rather, the midday meal—exactly to Gan Qiongying’s liking.

Moreover, as Gan Qiongying sat down, Silver Moon timely said, “The Consort has already washed up, but his tongue is injured, making it difficult for him to eat normally. We’ve already prepared porridge and ginseng soup. Would the Princess like to have the Consort brought over?”

Gan Qiongying had nearly forgotten about Lihua all morning. Upon hearing this, she nodded and said, “Bring him over. Remember, starting today, the Consort and I will eat, live, and go out together.”

Silver Moon softly replied, “Yes.”

She instructed the maids to bring the Consort over and then moved closer to Gan Qiongying to serve her soup and dishes, saying, “Princess, the Consort’s attendant San Jiu has been kept outside the manor since last night. This morning, he even brought a group of maids the Consort is accustomed to, waiting outside the gate and requesting an audience several times.”

“Should I have them sent away?”

Silver Moon’s voice was gentle, not sharp, and pleasant to the ear when she leaned in close.

Gan Qiongying glanced at her, and Silver Moon lowered her voice slightly, saying, “If the Princess wishes to make the Consort obedient, she must not allow him to keep too many familiar attendants by his side.”

This was a common tactic used by women in the inner chambers to torment others. Without anyone familiar around, no matter how fiercely one might struggle, they could never break free from the high walls.

Silver Moon was sincerely strategizing for Gan Qiongying to subdue the Consort.

When she led the maids to tidy the bed in the morning, she had confirmed that the Princess had not succeeded in consummating the marriage last night. Her words were also based on her interpretation of Gan Qiongying’s intentions.

However, Gan Qiongying had absolutely no intention of tormenting Lihua. She was merely seeking an “ally”—not only to ensure the continued monthly payment of two hundred thousand taels from Lihua but also to use him to navigate the unavoidable plotlines ahead.

Thus, upon hearing this, Gan Qiongying chuckled lightly and said dismissively, “Let them all in. Assign a few people to follow the Consort’s attendants and have them move all the Consort’s accustomed belongings to the Princess Manor.”

“Yes,” Silver Moon replied.

At that moment, Lihua was led to the table.

Gan Qiongying looked up at him and noticed he was dressed in dark-colored brocade robes, his posture tall and straight, unlike the cowering and slouching demeanor he had displayed before. Clearly, he could no longer be bothered to pretend.

However, as he walked over slowly and steadily, Gan Qiongying noticed that despite his efforts to maintain balance, there was a slight limp in his gait.

Could it be… that he had injured his leg yesterday when the shadow guard dragged him off the bed?

Although the two had slept together all night and felt some lingering awkwardness from their overly intimate morning encounter, they had now clearly composed themselves. Looking at each other, they were once again in a state of “enemies meeting with heightened animosity.”

Lihua was tense, his face cold as he looked at Gan Qiongying, refusing to sit down.

He desperately wished for Gan Qiongying to grow tired of him as soon as possible. That way, he would rather endure beatings and humiliation as before than have Gan Qiongying look at him with that meaningful gaze.

Unexpectedly, his hostile glare did not provoke the usually ill-tempered Princess Duanrong.

Gan Qiongying even smiled gently at him, her tone exceptionally soft as she said, “The Consort is here. You must be hungry. Please sit. Since your tongue hasn’t healed yet, have some chicken soup first. Later, I’ll have the maids bring you the mouthwash medicine prepared by the mansion physician.”

Upon hearing this, the maids immediately stepped forward to serve the soup, and two others prepared to help him sit down. But Lihua stood there unmoving, raising his arm to refuse the maids’ touch, stubbornly staring at Gan Qiongying, his eyes blazing with fury.

Gan Qiongying: “Has anyone ever told you… your eyes are very beautiful.”

At these words, Lihua’s brow twitched violently, barely managing to keep his expression unchanged.

Everyone in the Imperial City of Yindu knew that Princess Duanrong was infatuated with Jinchuan Zhizi Zhongli Zhengzhen, utterly obsessed with him, and had even committed several excessive acts that angered the Emperor.

In a fit of rage, the Emperor arranged her marriage to a merchant, determined to sever her desire to marry the hostage prince of an enemy state.

After the wedding, she wallowed in self-pity for a while, even gathering a mansion full of handsome men as male consorts, indulging in debauchery day after day.

But before long, she could no longer resist seeking out Zhongli Zhengzhen again, and while chasing after his horse, she fell and injured herself.

Her infatuation with him was unwavering, her pleas humble, and she would stop at nothing.

As for her sudden change in attitude toward her Consort… even if Lihua could disguise his face, he could not replace his eyes.

No one in all of Nánzhào knew that he and Zhongli Zhengzhen were brothers, their eyes strikingly identical.

In an instant, Lihua understood why Princess Duanrong had suddenly insisted on consummating their marriage—it was because of his eyes!

If only he had pretended to be blind!

Realizing that he might have been treated as a substitute for Zhongli Zhengzhen by Princess Duanrong, Lihua was deeply shaken inside, but his expression remained unchanged, only his gaze growing colder.

In his life, he despised nothing more… nothing more than being compared to his younger brother.