Chapter 15: She Loves Money as Much as Life

Perhaps it was the heartache that made her exceptionally clear-headed. As Gan Qiongying recalled the entire plot, she couldn’t help but think her memory was truly remarkable. Even though she had only skimmed through the book, she could remember many details and even form vivid images in her mind.

It was as if these plot points weren’t from a book she had read but were her own memories, fresh and alive.

Indeed, with her survival instincts at their peak, even her mind seemed to have sharpened.

She also remembered tonight’s plot.

To put it bluntly, wasn’t it just the same old story?

The female lead and the male lead were tender and affectionate, while the malicious female antagonist relentlessly sabotaged them—the entire story was filled with such scenes.

Tonight’s plot was more specific: she saw the female lead, Wen Xueling, talking with the male lead, Zhongli Zhengzhen, by the river. Consumed by jealousy, “Gan Qiongying” rushed to Wen Xueling’s side after Zhongli Zhengzhen temporarily left and pushed her into the water, attempting to drown her.

Thinking of this, Gan Qiongying curled her lips. How could she possibly drown her? With so many people watching Wen Xueling, it was merely a way to make the character of “Princess Duanrong” even more malicious to the extreme.

Gan Qiongying pressed her chest, which still throbbed with a dull ache. It was clear that the plot could not be defied. Following the brightly lit candles at the banquet, she looked toward the host of the evening, Zhongli Zhengzhen, seated not far from her at the main table.

Damn it, he was truly good-looking.

His features were sharp and defined, with long eyebrows that extended to his temples, eyes as bright as stars, and lips as red as fire.

He was dressed in the attire of a Jinchuan noble, wearing a string of gemstone earrings on his right ear. His jet-black hair was partly braided on top, while the lower half cascaded loosely over his shoulders.

His deep blue robe, adorned with the distinctive flame patterns of the Jinchuan people, shimmered under the candlelight as if he were draped in embers. It accentuated his broad shoulders and narrow waist, while his black thick-soled boots encased his slender calves, which extended beyond the low table.

From Gan Qiongying’s vantage point, the lines of his body seemed to stretch endlessly from his calves to his firm thighs.

Sitting there, he outshone even the dancing flower maidens on the riverboats—wild and fiery, cool and aloof.

He was indeed the type of man any girl would like. Especially someone like Wen Xueling, a well-behaved girl who would naturally be drawn to a wild wolf-like boy like him.

But as Gan Qiongying looked at Zhongli Zhengzhen, she felt genuinely troubled.

What troubled her wasn’t even the fact that tonight, she had to follow the plot and push the female lead, Wen Xueling, into the water, or risk dying from heartache.

Instead, she remembered that in the plot, Princess Duanrong had given Zhongli Zhengzhen countless rare treasures to win his favor, even presenting him with gifts bestowed by the Emperor.

Gan Qiongying wondered if she could talk to Zhongli Zhengzhen properly and tell him she was so poor she could barely make ends meet.

Would he return them to her?

So many precious things—how much money would they be worth if converted? How could she use money to pursue a man?

Gan Qiongying stared intently at Zhongli Zhengzhen as if he were a debtor who owed her eighty thousand strings of cash.

After a moment, she lowered her head, looking somewhat listless.

First, after the intense pain, her chest and back still throbbed with sudden aches from time to time.

Second, she felt heartache—heartache for all that money.

When she lived in the 21st century, her family’s circumstances were quite ordinary, not even considered middle-class. Both her parents were laborers, and she attended a mediocre university. When she fell ill… it drained the family’s savings.

Before she died, she couldn’t even afford medical treatment.

If she really hadn’t died, she would probably have to figure something out herself. She couldn’t drag her entire family down with her, could she?

However, what made Gan Qiongying feel relatively unburdened after death—she didn’t even have to worry about her parents grieving too much—was that her illness had been long, and her temper had been poor during that time, which had worn away most of the reluctance between her and her family.

Besides, she had a younger sister, so her parents wouldn’t be left alone.

But that’s getting off track.

In short, she loved money and knew exactly how good it was to have it.

You could say she loved money as much as her own life.

After all, expensive chemotherapy drugs and cheap ones had completely different effects—literally life-and-death differences.

But if she directly asked Zhongli Zhengzhen for money, it would definitely break her character. In the story, Princess Duanrong was madly in love with Zhongli Zhengzhen and would never dream of demanding repayment from him.

Tsk.

Gan Qiongying picked up a cup of wine. The wine at this banquet wasn’t strong and carried the fragrance of some unknown flower, likely to prevent the ladies from getting too drunk.

Gan Qiongying sniffed it, then tilted her head back and drank it in one go.

Under the brilliant lights, she half-leaned on her arm, drinking cup after cup. To others, it looked like she was drowning her sorrows in heartbreak, brooding and distressed.

Several noble young ladies seated not far from Gan Qiongying quietly whispered among themselves, gossiping about her.

Sitting beside Gan Qiongying, separated only by a small table, was the female lead of this book, Wen Xueling.

When she looked at Gan Qiongying, she was momentarily stunned by her striking appearance. Gan Qiongying was dressed in full regalia today, wearing a dark red brocade robe, with snow-white skin, red lips, and eyes that seemed to slant upward with a hint of mischief. She was simply too enchanting.

Princess Duanrong’s appearance wasn’t the type of beauty celebrated in this dynasty. In Nánzhào, elegance and subtlety were prized, with propriety in speech and conduct, gentleness, and modesty considered the highest virtues.

Women most enjoyed being compared to lotuses, autumn chrysanthemums, winter plum blossoms, or pear blossoms—graceful, pure, and fitting for both the home and society.

Although the noble young ladies were all dressed to the nines, most of them competed in the subtlety of their attire. For example, the seemingly plain but shimmering “Lan Guang Liu Yue” brocade, which seemed to glow with every movement, was practically a must-have for everyone.

No one was quite like Princess Duanrong, whose natural beauty was overwhelmingly enchanting, and whose attire resembled a blooming peony, utterly unapologetic and unrestrained.

Such an appearance certainly caught the eye, but most men wouldn’t marry a woman like this.

If Princess Duanrong hadn’t been born into the royal family, with features resembling the emperor and an air of hidden authority, who knows whose pampered darling she might have become with such looks.

But her beauty was undeniable, so aside from those watching Wen Xueling, everyone else’s eyes lingered on Gan Qiongying.

Wen Xueling also watched Gan Qiongying. Her appearance was the complete opposite of Gan Qiongying’s—she embodied the most admired elegance and ethereal beauty, with an innocent and lively charm in her eyes and brows, like the incarnation of a white lotus in a river.

She watched Gan Qiongying with curiosity and wariness.

Gan Qiongying had often spoken harshly to her and even employed various schemes to try to harm her. Wen Xueling’s attendants were all elite guards personally assigned by her father, with exceptional skills, yet they couldn’t retaliate in kind and dared not lay a finger on Princess Duanrong.

Wen Xueling had once written home to complain, but her father only advised her to endure Princess Duanrong’s behavior and avoid her whenever possible.

Wen Xueling’s curiosity, however, wasn’t about Princess Duanrong herself but about the man she loved so desperately and couldn’t have. What was so special about him?

Wen Xueling was the cherished pearl of Jingxi Wang, doted on and spoiled, yet she hadn’t developed a spoiled or arrogant personality. Instead, she had grown up with a gentle, cheerful, and playful nature.

Her father petitioned the emperor to arrange a marriage for her, and she had come to Yindu by imperial decree precisely to seek a suitable husband.

Her father had said that a beauty should be matched with a hero—a woman like her could only be paired with the most outstanding man in the world.

She had been in the Imperial City for quite some time, and many had shown her favor, yet Wen Xueling had not been moved by anyone, nor had she seen anyone resembling the hero her father described as worthy of her.

Since childhood, she had lived in luxury, surrounded by countless admirers. Gold, silver, and jade, all the treasures piled high, were things she could obtain effortlessly, and she cared little for them.

She glanced at Duan Rong, then grew bolder, slowly shifting her gaze to the man seated in the foremost position.

Watching him directly lift the wine jug and tilt his head to pour wine into his slightly parted mouth, the liquid that couldn’t be swallowed in time flowing down his chin and into his collar, Wen Xueling unconsciously swallowed as well.

Then her heart raced wildly, because that Jinchuan Zhizi suddenly looked straight at her!

His eyes were like a soaring eagle, sharply capturing her gaze in an instant.

Wen Xueling suddenly felt as if she had become prey, her body pinned by the gaze of an eagle soaring through the sky.

Those eyes were deep and cold, yet when they looked at someone, they inexplicably seemed to pierce through flesh, making one feel feverish all over, even sensing pain.

Wen Xueling, like a little rabbit caught in an eagle’s stare, nervously averted her gaze, breathing rapidly. She dared not look toward the foremost seat again, yet she could feel that gaze still roaming over her. Her face flushed crimson, and her breathing grew even more urgent.

She hastily took a sip from her wine cup but choked on it. A maid stepped forward to pat her back and offer water, and she softly complained, “The wine is too strong, cough…”

The noble sons who had been watching her, as well as the two princes present at the banquet, all turned their attention to her, expressing their concern.

But Zhongli Zhengzhen shifted his gaze away from Wen Xueling and looked toward Princess Duanrong, who had been drinking gloomily not far from him.

Strange.

She was acting very strangely today.

Zhongli Zhengzhen narrowed his eyes slightly, recalling how San Jiu had come to him for help last night, saying that Princess Duanrong was forcing her Consort to consummate the marriage and urging him to think of a way to rescue the man immediately.

Zhongli Zhengzhen found it utterly absurd. Not only did all of Nánzhào know that Duanrong was infatuated with him, but every man in her rear courtyard had been brought into the Princess Manor to provoke him.

Male consorts? They were merely meant to make him angry and jealous.

As for the Consort… with that face, how could she possibly like him?

Yet San Jiu’s urgent words didn’t seem fabricated. However, no matter how much Duanrong pestered Zhongli Zhengzhen or obeyed his every word, she was still the one and only princess of Nánzhào.

What could he, a Jinchuan Zhizi, do if she wanted to consummate her marriage with her own Consort in her own manor?

Only when the Consort still hadn’t left the manor by the next day did Zhongli Zhengzhen grow somewhat anxious.

The Consort’s identity was special—he had married Duanrong to assist Zhongli Zhengzhen, merely to use her status for convenience.

He couldn’t allow the Consort to be humiliated.

That was why tonight’s banquet at Huishui River had been arranged.

Yet… in the past, not only would she have come if he had specially sent her an invitation, but even if she had invited herself, she would have lingered around him, seizing every opportunity to speak to him and displaying that nauseating infatuation.

But ever since taking her seat today, she had only glanced at him briefly before drowning herself in solitary drinking.

Could it be that she truly consummated her marriage with the Consort last night?

Impossible.

How could a love so maddening change overnight?

This was likely just another trick to capture his attention.

Zhongli Zhengzhen had considered several times approaching her to strike up a conversation, or at least raising his cup in a toast when she looked his way, to keep her attention fixed on him and allow the Consort a temporary escape.

But Princess Duanrong kept drinking, kept drinking, finishing two entire jugs all by herself.

Finally, she began to feel a bit tipsy.

The alcohol content was too low, leaving her with the urge to relieve herself.

However, she wasn’t truly drinking to drown her sorrows. Instead, she was using the wine to bolster her courage, planning to follow the plot while under its influence and, incidentally… try asking Zhongli Zhengzhen for something back.

She had already thought of a reason, one perfectly suited to her character of being reckless for beauty’s sake.

If her heart didn’t ache, she could gradually reclaim all those precious items.

Heh heh heh heh.

After finishing her drink, Gan Qiongying propped her head on her arm, pretending to sleep while actually waiting for the plot to unfold.

After all, aside from following the plot, she wouldn’t do anything else.

She had little interest in the banquet, but to prevent herself from actually falling asleep at the table, she scanned the attendees.

Half-drunk and half-awake, she didn’t realize that, having only read about this world, she shouldn’t recognize its people, yet she could identify nearly everyone at the banquet.

For example, the young man currently fawning over Wen Xueling was the seventh brother of the current emperor, Prince Kangguang. This little brat was only fourteen—had he even grown hair in all the right places? And he already had his sights set on marrying the daughter of Jingxi Wang, that tigress?

Gan Qiongying chuckled softly, her fingers slowly tracing the rim of her cup.

“Is the Princess drunk?” A deep voice sounded above her head. She slowly looked up, meeting Zhongli Zhengzhen’s face—so handsome it defied mortal and divine alike.

Up close, he was even more striking.

Gan Qiongying stared, mesmerized, mentally dividing his features into zones based on his high, straight nose.

Zone one on the left: the silver she had sent him.

Zone two on the right: the gold she had sent him.

Zone three on his forehead: the jewels she had sent him.

Zone four on his chin: the imperial rewards she had sent him.

Gan Qiongying moved her lips, her throat filled with the words “Pay me back, pay me back, pay me back, pay me back…”

But what actually came out was: “Not… drunk.”

I clearly remember how much you owe me.

Zhongli Zhengzhen gave a slight, mocking smile, lowering his head toward Gan Qiongying. His eyes held arrogance, indifference, and a hint of disdain.

He had thought Princess Duanrong had truly changed somewhat.

He had overestimated her. The way she looked at him hadn’t diminished in the slightest; if anything, it had grown even more fervent.

Zhongli Zhengzhen felt the situation was under his control, so he withdrew his smile and gaze, casually remarking, “Then the Princess may continue. This pear blossom wine has no lingering effects and won’t cause a headache.”

“Someone, warm another jug for Princess Duanrong.”

With that, he strode away, not sparing a glance as he left the banquet.

As the feast drew to a close, many guests had left their seats to watch the song and dance performances. Acquaintances gathered in small groups, chatting and laughing, while the women clustered together, exclaiming in admiration from time to time.

No one dared to approach Gan Qiongying for conversation, and she had no desire to get up and watch the performances or acrobatics outside.

Her eyes remained fixed on Zhongli Zhengzhen until he disappeared from sight beyond the waterside pavilion.

Her mind was filled with the jewelry and gems adorning him, jingling with every step he took…

That jade pendant at the waist is so large—why does it look so familiar?

Could they all be mine?

They’re huge and expensive!

Give them back to me—