Chapter 3: She’s Lost Her Mind!

Faced with this unavoidable, self-destructive plot, Gan Qiongying felt a numbing sensation from the top of her head down to her toes.

“Is the threshold of the Princess Manor too high?” The head maid Manyue’s voice continued. Although Gan Qiongying had smashed a teacup to stop the beating, the humiliation could not be omitted.

After all, humiliating the Consort was the “Princess’s” favorite pastime.

“Why does the Prince Consort trip every time he comes? Could it be… that he is simply unworthy?”

After Manyue finished speaking, the other maids who had been beating the Consort burst into loud, raucous laughter.

Gan Qiongying felt miserable inside.

Although she had no feelings whatsoever for this Consort—he was a complete stranger—and she was not some deranged lunatic who derived pleasure from tormenting others, she dared not act entirely according to her own whims. Stopping the abuse was the limit of what she could do. People in ancient times were not fools; if she changed too drastically overnight, she would surely arouse suspicion.

A Princess, surrounded by attendants, the mistress of a manor with thousands of servants and over ten thousand eyes watching her every move—how could she suddenly undergo a complete personality shift? From a gloomy, capricious, picky, and extravagant master to a gentle, easygoing, and complacent one? Could she simply use excuses like “I fell off a horse and lost my memory” or “I’ve had a profound awakening” to explain it away?

That was undoubtedly wishful thinking.

Since crossing over, every step she took had been cautious and deliberate.

These past few days, she had constantly furrowed her brows, pretending to be scheming and profound, dismissing her maids to practice her expressions in front of the mirror—how to mimic the original owner’s wicked, arrogant, and unrestrained demeanor.

Fortunately, the results were good. Even her personal head maid, Manyue, had not noticed anything unusual.

Of course, this was largely thanks to the fact that, in the over month since her transmigration, the words she had spoken could be counted on ten fingers.

Responding to change with constancy had indeed shown initial success. She had gradually come to understand some of the rules of this world.

Moreover, although the few maids by her side were, to put it mildly, typical lackeys of a villain—eager to aid and abet wrongdoing, going to great lengths to commit evil deeds on their master’s behalf—their loyalty and meticulousness in serving her, their mistress, were as clear as day and moon.

These people truly made Gan Qiongying feel both affection and resentment.

She loved that she didn’t need to say a word; they would charge ahead and handle everything. With just a glance from her, they could interpret over ten thousand possible meanings, and at least one of them would be correct. All she had to do was nod. Otherwise, if she spoke too much and made mistakes, she would never have lasted this long and would have been dragged out and burned as a demonic possession long ago.

But Gan Qiongying also resented that each of them acted like villainous henchmen, with not a single one understanding the meaning of modesty and restraint.

In just these past few days, Gan Qiongying had witnessed them offending people on more than one occasion. For example, a couple of days ago, when the Marchioness invited her to a flower-viewing event, Gan Qiongying wasn’t sure if she should go. As usual, she looked at the head maid Manyue with a profound expression.

Good heavens, Manyue opened her mouth and said, “What kind of messy, lowly women from the inner chambers are they? Planting a few stalks of foxtail grass and daring to invite the Princess to see them? See what? Watch them play monkeys?”

And then the little maid actually went and delivered that exact reply.

But their “misdeeds” went far beyond that.

Like right now, beating the Consort half to death.

And after beating him, claiming he fell on his own.

The Prince Consort stood a head taller than these young maids, but perhaps beaten into submission and bullied into habit, he dared not utter a word. Hunched and slumped, his eyes remained downcast—his entire being could be summed up in four words: a heart as dead as ashes.

However, Manyue at least had some sense. Though she always helped the Princess humiliate the Prince Consort to vent her anger, she would never let him leave the manor in such a state. After all, the Prince Consort was a marriage bestowed by the Emperor. Beating him would be slapping the Emperor’s face, so some cover-up was necessary.

Thus, after her routine humiliation, she directed the maids, “You lot, why aren’t you helping the Prince Consort freshen up and see him out?”

The maids then swiftly tidied his clothes, wiped away the bloodstains, and brushed off the dust from his person.

Before Gan Qiongying could get a clear look at the cleaned-up man, the maids had already pushed and dragged him out the door.

It was rather absurd—Gan Qiongying had been transmigrated for over a month, yet she didn’t recognize her own Prince Consort, nor did she know what he looked like…

If Manyue and the others hadn’t addressed him as the Prince Consort, Gan Qiongying would have mistaken him for a servant who had committed some offense in the manor.

Seeing Gan Qiongying still gazing in the direction where the Prince Consort had left, Manyue, who was walking toward her, asked, “Is the Princess still unsatisfied?”

Gan Qiongying: …What?

Interpreting her mistress’s gloomy expression, Manyue guessed her meaning, “Shall we drag the Prince Consort back and break another one of his legs?”

Gan Qiongying: …Sister, please accumulate some virtue on my behalf!

Gan Qiongying’s heart leaped into her throat, fearing Manyue’s next words would be to haul the man back for another beating.

She wished she could turn back time, pluck out her own curious eyes that had glanced at the Prince Consort, throw them on the ground, and crush them like bubbles!

Fortunately, Manyue indeed knew her limits. Softening her tone, she coaxed Gan Qiongying, “The Prince Consort’s health is worse than last time. I’m afraid he wouldn’t survive another broken leg. If the Princess truly remains unsatisfied, let’s wait until next month.”

As she spoke, Manyue stole a fearful glance at Gan Qiongying, worried she might act recklessly.

Though she had served by Princess Duanrong’s side for quite some time, Manyue still couldn’t fully grasp the Princess’s temperament.

Hearing this, Gan Qiongying breathed a heavy sigh of relief inwardly, her expression easing slightly.

Seeing this, Manyue knew her persuasion had worked and immediately continued, “After all… this marriage was bestowed by His Majesty. Though that lowly merchant is unworthy of the Princess, we cannot openly beat him to death.”

“Fortunately, he still has some self-awareness, coming only once a month just to deliver silver, never demanding a true marital relationship with the Princess… And from what I know, his health is deteriorating day by day. I doubt he’ll last much longer.”

In front of the Prince Consort, Manyue addressed him mockingly as “Prince Consort,” but once he was gone, she never referred to him as such in Gan Qiongying’s presence, calling him only “that man” or “the lowly merchant.”

Gan Qiongying looked at Manyue, whose expressions shifted as quickly as flipping pages, and couldn’t help but sigh inwardly.

Manyue’s face truly lived up to her name—round and full like the moon, with a healthy rosy glow. She even looked kind-hearted, with plump cheeks and large, round eyes that could almost be described as adorable. She didn’t seem like a villainous lackey but rather a cute young girl in her early twenties.

However, Gan Qiongying knew Manyue was no simple character. Just seeing how effortlessly she navigated the original host’s side and managed the entire Princess Manor’s affairs made it clear she was far from an innocent little darling.

Manyue, mindful that her mistress had been in low spirits ever since her fall from the horse some days ago, had deliberately arranged for Gan Qiongying to watch the spectacle of them humiliating the Consort today.

Seeing Gan Qiongying’s expression soften, Manyue gauged her mood and picked up something that would please her: “These past two months, Princess hasn’t spent much since she’s been injured and unable to go out. The silver notes that person sent have accumulated enough for Princess to build a new temple for the little monk Dingzhen at the monastery.”

Manyue’s face flushed slightly as she approached with a hint of flattery, massaging Gan Qiongying’s shoulders. Her tone carried an indescribable meaning: “Once the new temple is built, why worry that little monk Dingzhen wouldn’t chant sutras for Princess all night or become one of her devoted followers?”

Princess herself, Gan Qiongying: “…”

At first, she didn’t understand, but soon, under Manyue’s suggestive gaze, it dawned on her!

She had read the plot and already knew that Princess Duanrong lived a wild life. Within the vast Princess Manor, there was a dedicated courtyard housing her male consorts—over a hundred and seventy of them.

But she never imagined the original host was this extravagant. Her male consorts included the sons of disgraced officials, a fallen Little General, and a top courtesan bought at great expense. That was one thing, but how could she even spare a monk?

How inhuman!

Yet, Gan Qiongying showed no trace of this on her face. Human potential is limitless—for the sake of survival, she, a simple college student, had honed the ability to remain unflappable even in the face of disaster.

So she merely gave a reserved nod, her lips twitching involuntarily, which made it look as though she were smiling.

Seeing Gan Qiongying “smile,” Manyue immediately grew even more enthusiastic, pouring out in one breath: “Would Princess like to review the manor’s account books? Last month, we just changed accountants, and the new accountant had the sorted account books delivered to the study last night.”

Gan Qiongying remained silent, and Manyue quickly understood, helping her to the study.

Once settled in the study with tea at hand, Manyue stood beside her, explaining the manor’s income while continuing to cheer her up.

“Look, Princess, this is the remaining balance in the accounts. At the end of the year, some funds will also come in from various regions.”

“Princess can not only build a temple for little monk Dingzhen but also bid for the Xigu zither from the Treasure Pavilion for Master Miaoyin. Master Miaoyin loves zithers like his life—once he gets it, he’ll surely serve Princess with even greater dedication…”

“And then there’s Little General Qu, who’s always been aloof. If Princess redeems his family from the Government Courtesan house, he’ll surely become utterly devoted to Princess…”

Manyue grew more and more animated, listing off the male consorts in Gan Qiongying’s rear courtyard as if they were treasures. She had long planned how to win their favor and how to spend the money in the accounts.

This included, but was not limited to, clothing, cosmetics, and fine expenses for this master and that master.

But Gan Qiongying wasn’t listening at all.

Or rather, she heard a few sentences before staring at the account books in shock.

She was stunned!

How could this be?!

She discovered that in this life, even though she had transmigrated into a princess, she was still broke!