An Author and Protagonist Got a Happy Ending [Transmigration] - Chapter 15

“…The truth?”

“Of course, it’s not a perfect comparison, but to Imperial Father, my mother was the most important person in the world,” the Princess said. “I couldn’t find a more suitable example to make him understand.”

The meaning of these words is…

Xiao Muyu’s eyes widened slightly.

“Do you understand now—”

The Princess leaned closer to her face, her deep eyes filled with an overwhelming sense of pressure. That trace of momentary distraction flickered and vanished, leaving only the clearly visible obsession that had been hidden deep within.

“No matter what happens, no matter who it is, no one can take you away from me.”

Icy fingertips brushed Xiao Muyu’s cheek, forcing her to lift her head and meet the Princess’s gaze.

It was only at this moment that Xiao Muyu truly saw what was in the Princess’s eyes—there was nothing at the end of them, like a shattered void. There was only a reconstructed, frantic obsession that was terrifying to behold.

A paranoid madman.

Xiao Muyu jolted awake, a chill rising from her spine. Her instincts screamed a danger signal, warning her to back away. At that moment, she felt the Princess was far more dangerous than the National Preceptor or the Old Emperor—

She wanted to drag Xiao Muyu into hell with her.

Xiao Muyu took a step back, only to have her wrist gripped tightly by the Princess. It was so forceful that, without even looking, she knew a ring of purple bruises would form.

The Princess watched her without blinking, her cold expression unchanging, as if saying, “Are you planning to run again?”

Xiao Muyu froze in her tracks.

The atmosphere of their sudden confrontation made everyone else afraid to make a sound. Though they hadn’t said much, it felt as if they had discussed everything from the origin of the world to the extinction of humanity. And it seemed they were prepared to remain in this stalemate.

Pei Qiuyue stood to the side, feeling like a third wheel.

“Princess…”

Seeing the nearby maids bowing their heads, not daring to breathe—looking like they wanted to dig a hole and bury themselves—Pei Qiuyue coughed loudly several times, trying to pull the attention of the two who were acting as if no one else existed.

“The sky is getting dark,” Pei Qiuyue said, weighing her tone. “Your Highness and the Saintess should go inside for a cup of hot tea.”

Seizing this moment of relaxation, Xiao Muyu nodded frantically and looked back at the Princess. The Princess let go of her hand. Xiao Muyu stole a glance at her face, unsure if she had truly returned to “normal,” but she grabbed the opportunity to follow the maids inside.

Pei Qiuyue fell back a step, walking beside the Princess, and continued to ask about the situation in a low voice.

“Did Your Highness and the Saintess have a fight?”

“No.”

“Did His Majesty make things difficult for you?”

“No.”

“Then was it the Noble Consort?”

“I didn’t see her.”

“Then why are you two…”

Pei Qiuyue trailed off, unsure whether to categorize the recent confrontation as a lovers’ spat. The invisible repulsion between them when they stood together was also difficult to decipher.

The Princess looked down at her own hand, remained silent for a moment, and brushed it off. “It’s nothing important.”

To Pei Qiuyue’s ears, this sounded like: “It’s none of your business.”

The Princess bypassed her and walked into the room, took the hot tea offered by a maid, and sat down beside Xiao Muyu. Xiao Muyu pointedly avoided the gaze of the person beside her, looking at the ceiling and the floor—refusing to look at her—and accidentally locked eyes with Pei Qiuyue outside.

Pei Qiuyue’s expression was complex. Xiao Muyu felt like her gaze carried the accusation that she was leading the Princess astray. She rubbed her nose and chose to look down and count the patterns on the floor.

This is what they call escaping from reality.

Meanwhile, in the Old Emperor’s sleeping quarters.

The Noble Consort had come to visit. After a few trivial words, the conversation naturally drifted to the Princess’s marriage.

“That Saintess is nothing but an empty-headed ‘vase.’ Aside from a face that’s barely passable, she’s useless. Furthermore, the Temple’s current attitude is unclear. How can such a person be kept in the palace!”

Mentioning the Temple and the Saintess, the Consort’s face was full of righteous indignation. This wasn’t the first time she had brought this up to the Emperor, but since the Princess hadn’t mentioned it before, she could only drop hints. Now that the Princess had left, she could openly express her dissatisfaction.

“The Princess is the future ruler of Xuefu. What right does that mere Saintess have? She isn’t even qualified to be a concubine.”

“How can the only bloodline of the Empress be defiled by a lowly servant!”

“And Her Highness has always been sensible. Why is she so persistent in this matter? That Saintess must have used some kind of sorcery. Your Majesty, are you going to watch the Princess fall into a fire pit?”

The Old Emperor kept his eyes closed, listening to the Consort’s complaints. He wasn’t particularly kind to her—in fact, he wasn’t kind to anyone other than the Princess. But his brow remained smooth, and he didn’t get angry at the Consort’s words. Clearly, he also had reservations about the marriage.

“Since Xue-er likes her…” the Emperor said after a long silence. “Then let her have her way.”

“Your Majesty!” the Consort cried out in shock.

“What are you in a rush for?” The Emperor gestured for her to be quiet, his voice calm. “There is still half a month until the wedding. Many things can change. Perhaps by then, Xue-er will regret it herself.”

The Consort paused, quickly catching his drift. “You mean…”

The Emperor closed his eyes and ordered: “For now, do not announce the news of Xue-er’s marriage to the public.”

The Consort’s eyebrows shot up, and a hint of joy entered her voice. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Achoo—!”

Xiao Muyu sneezed. The Princess’s gaze immediately swept over. “Are you cold?”

Xiao Muyu wrapped her quilt tighter and shook her head vigorously.

The night was growing deep. She and the Princess were sitting on the corridor facing the garden—she had sat there first, and the Princess had followed. With everyone else dismissed, the small room felt empty with only the two of them.

It was indeed cold outside; the grass was drooping piteously under the frost. But Xiao Muyu was used to this temperature. It was cool, but manageable. She felt more like someone was talking about her behind her back. But she had no family or friends in this world; who would be thinking of her? Only those who wanted to use her or kill her.

In a way, I’m quite popular, she thought. Xiao Muyu was so chilled by her own internal joke that she shivered.

Then, she fell into a cold embrace.

The Princess sat on the floor with her, discarding the etiquette carved into her bones. She opened her outer robe and pulled Xiao Muyu in.

Thank goodness Pei Qiuyue isn’t here, was Xiao Muyu’s first thought—otherwise, seeing the Princess like this, she’d definitely blame Xiao Muyu for it.

The Princess’s embrace was colder than the wind and snow outside. Xiao Muyu realized this immediately. The Princess was naturally cold-natured, and her cultivation technique was extreme frost; her body temperature was far lower than a normal person’s. In the sweltering heat of summer, she would be the most popular natural air conditioner, but living like this since childhood likely skewed her perception.

Xiao Muyu suppressed the urge to roast her, fearing the Princess would get embarrassed and angry and hit her. Once she got used to it, the chilly embrace wasn’t so bad.

“The scenery here is nice.”

It took a moment for Xiao Muyu to realize the Princess was talking to her. The moonlight was gentle, softening the Princess’s profile. Xiao Muyu felt her heart relax.

“Ah… yes.”

“Do you like it?” The Princess looked up at the stars.

She remembered that in the dream, Xiao Muyu was often like this—sitting alone in the fields late at night, facing the whistling wind, looking up at the endless starry sky. Back then, the Princess was full of irritation and didn’t think the stars were beautiful; she only looked at the person.

Now, she could feel the magnificent beauty, but it felt more like an unfillable void in her heart. Void and distant. Just like the person beside her who was within reach, yet felt like sand that she couldn’t grasp no matter how hard she tried.

“I can’t say if I like it or not…” Xiao Muyu followed her gaze. “It’s just very beautiful, and…” and it almost never changes.

This was one of the few sights unaffected by the apocalypse. No matter how far you traveled or how strange the place, there was always something nearly eternal accompanying you. It wasn’t a bad feeling.

Before Xiao Muyu could finish her thought, she felt a weight on her lap. The Princess had slumped into her lap, her eyes half-closed. It was unclear if she was sleepy, but she was still looking at the stars.

“…” Xiao Muyu was speechless. She felt the Princess was breaking her perception of her once again today. Was she feeling sentimental? Or had she been triggered by something?

Xiao Muyu didn’t dare move or speak. She could only rack her brain for what went wrong today while acting as the Princess’s human pillow.

“So warm…”

Xiao Muyu was distracted; she wasn’t sure if she actually heard that low murmur. When she looked down, the Princess had closed her eyes, seemingly ready to fall asleep right there.

Hey… Xiao Muyu opened her mouth, but swallowed her complaint.

They remained in this awkward position for a long time until Xiao Muyu couldn’t take it anymore. Assuming the Princess was asleep, she tried to pull her numb legs out.

However, the moment she moved, a hand reached out and gripped her wrist tightly, pressing exactly on her previous bruise.

“Sss—!”

Xiao Muyu’s brow twitched. She looked down and saw the Princess turn her head and look up at her with a dazed expression. Perhaps it was a trick of the moonlight, but those gem-like eyes looked remarkably fragile.

Her voice was low and raspy, carrying the softness of someone who just woke up, like a wronged child.

“Are you going to leave me again?”