Chapter 6: Want Him to Serve?

Lihua had already reached his own doorstep, but the guards of the Princess Manor did not allow him to enter and inform his household. Instead, they forcibly escorted him back to the Princess Manor.

Inside the carriage, San Jiu, sitting opposite Lihua, wore a grave expression and gritted his teeth, saying, “Eldest Young Master, perhaps this humble servant should send someone to inform the Second Young Master…”

Li Ye slowly raised his head and glanced at San Jiu. Though his expression remained unchanged, the coldness in his eyes silenced San Jiu.

San Jiu’s face flushed with suppressed anger, but he dared not say anything more. The Eldest Young Master’s identity… truly could not be exposed.

However, San Jiu struggled to hold back and finally whispered in a voice only audible to the two of them, “That witch is going too far. This time, summoning the Eldest Young Master back, she will surely find ways to humiliate you! Young Master, should this subordinate…”

He raised his hand, forming a knife-like gesture, and made a downward chopping motion. His eyes were fierce, showing none of the honest simplicity expected of a merchant’s attendant. The ferocity in his gaze was comparable to that of a demon.

But Lihua merely reached into his collar, retrieved a paper packet, shook out the powdered medicine inside, and then tilted his head back, pouring it directly into his mouth without even a sip of water.

The bitter taste spread in his mouth, yet Lihua’s face remained expressionless.

He slightly lifted his eyelashes, his gaze toward his subordinate not sharp but clear and cold, like a basin of ice water poured over one’s head, instantly extinguishing San Jiu’s thoughts.

Though still visibly resentful, San Jiu obediently knelt down and withdrew his murderous gesture.

Of course, he also knew it was not yet time. His Eldest Young Master still needed the identity of the Princess Consort as a cover to plan for greater things.

But he simply could not bear the injustice for his master. Princess Duanrong was too arrogant and unrestrained. Not only did she beat their Eldest Young Master every month, but this time, even beating him might not satisfy her. Who knew what humiliating methods she would devise?

At the very least, they still bore the title of husband and wife. At the very least, the Eldest Young Master gave her so much money every month for her extravagant spending. Yet she was so cruel, truly chilling to the bone!

How could their Eldest Young Master endure such humiliation?

However, Lihua himself felt no discomfort or fear. They were merely petty, shameful tactics. What had he not experienced before? What was there to fear?

He leaned against the swaying wall of the carriage, his complexion rapidly turning pale, even bluish, due to the medicine.

A metallic taste even rose in his mouth. After taking the medicine, all the strength in his body seemed to drain away.

By the time they arrived at the Princess Manor, he had once again transformed into that “shriveled and cowardly,” “frail and delicate” sickly Consort.

Supported as he stepped down from the carriage, his eyes were filled with palpable panic, and his expression was one of fear and despair.

San Jiu was stopped in the outer courtyard, watching his master being led away, his eyes burning with anxiety.

Li Ye speculated about several possible outcomes. Most likely, the Princess had not vented her anger during the day, or perhaps she had suffered some grievance from the Emperor and intended to take it out on him.

At worst, he would endure a beating or some humiliation. Having been married for a month, he felt as if he had fallen into an icy abyss and had already grown accustomed to it.

Yet, in his lowered eyes, there remained an uncontrollable sorrow.

Lihua was dragged by the maids brought by Manyue into the side hall of the main chamber. The moment they entered, they exclaimed, “Oh, the Prince Consort has finally returned! Our Princess has been so worried about you…”

These few women seemed to have forgotten they were the Princess’s personal maids. At this moment, as if possessed by the madam of a brothel, they appraised Lihua with ambiguous laughter.

Pushed and shoved into the inner chamber of the side room, Lihua felt the drug take effect halfway and actually vomited another mouthful of blood.

Seeing this, Manyue panicked instantly: “Consort!”

“Oh no, the Consort’s illness has flared up! Call for help quickly!”

Due to the drug’s effects, Lihua truly could no longer stand and began to collapse toward the ground.

Perhaps this way he could avoid a humiliation. After all, no matter how deranged the Princess was, she wouldn’t torment someone half-dead.

Before closing his eyes to feign unconsciousness, Li Ye even fleetingly thought that if he could sleep forever like this… perhaps it would be a good ending for him.

In his final moments of consciousness, he vaguely saw the Princess rushing in from outside in a panic.

The corner of Li Ye’s mouth trembled slightly—an aborted self-mockery.

When Li Ye regained consciousness, he found himself lying on a soft bed.

A group of physicians surrounded him, taking his pulse, examining him, prescribing medicine, and inserting needles.

Lihua feared needles the most. He could remain expressionless even when cut by a blade, but his fear of needles reached an absurd level.

Barely opening his eyes to observe what trick the Princess was playing this time, he saw an Imperial Physician holding an extremely long silver needle, aiming directly for the top of his head. His eyes rolled back, and this time, he truly fainted.

But when he woke again, Lihua began to feel genuine panic.

When he opened his eyes, the sky outside was completely dark, but the room was brightly lit.

Beneath him was a soft, dry bed, and he had been changed into clean clothes. Two maids stood guard not far from the screen, and a faintly scented incense burned in the auspicious beast-shaped censer in the room.

This should have been a very comfortable and reassuring environment, but as he tried to prop himself up on his arms, he looked down and realized his robe was wide open.

Upon closer inspection, it wasn’t just open—he was wearing a red gauze robe with a front that opened all the way to his navel.

The thin layer, no different from garlic skin, left what should be covered faintly visible and what shouldn’t be exposed entirely on display.

Lihua had never experienced anything like this in his life. He gasped, choking, and began coughing violently, the taste of blood filling his mouth.

“Cough, cough, cough… cough, cough, cough…”

He suddenly remembered what the maid by the Princess’s side had said when he was carried back after feigning unconsciousness: “Go, bring the prepared clothes—the red gauze set.”

“Once the Imperial Physician finishes the examination and the Consort wakes up, change him into it first. The Princess said she’ll be coming over tonight…”

Lihua’s mind buzzed—perhaps from lack of oxygen due to coughing—but he belatedly understood what the maid had meant.

The Princess… wanted him to serve her?

Or perhaps the potent drug that had even fooled the Imperial Physician hadn’t fully worn off.

With a thud, he fell back onto the bed.

Stars danced before Lihua’s eyes—not from the impact or the coughing, but from sheer rage.

He thought of Princess Duanrong’s notorious wanton behavior, of the ever-growing number of male consorts in her rear courtyard, sprouting like bamboo shoots after rain.

In an instant, he trembled with fury. He had never imagined she could devise such a method to humiliate him!

For the first time, Lihua felt a desperate resolve to throw caution to the wind and fight to the bitter end, even if it meant mutual destruction.

Just then, from outside, came a gentle tone he had never heard from the Princess before.

“How is the Consort? Has he improved?”

“Your Highness, the Imperial Physician said the medicine’s effects should be wearing off around now. The Consort should have awakened by this time.”

“Really? Then I’ll go in and see him.” Gan Qiongying’s voice carried an excitement she could hardly contain—mainly because she wanted to meet the God of Wealth in person.

But to Lihua’s ears, her words sounded like a demon coming to claim his life.

At that moment, all he wanted was to leap up and fight the Princess to the death. Yet reality was that his guard, San Jiu, was nowhere to be found. To avoid humiliation, he had taken medicine, and now his limbs were weak and feeble. Even propping himself up on his arms to sit straight left him drenched in sweat.

Thus, as he watched the shadow gradually approaching from behind the screen, Lihua’s eyes widened with fury. Then… like a fish slipping into water, he slid under the covers.

Wrapping himself up tightly.