An Author and Protagonist Got a Happy Ending [Transmigration] - Chapter 17

Aside from the deceased Empress and the currently highest-ranking Noble Consort, the Old Emperor’s harem included three other consorts.

Two of them had sons, providing them with some semblance of security, while the remaining one hadn’t managed to have a child. After the Empress became pregnant with the Princess, the Old Emperor never summoned them again, so she simply tagged along with the other two.

Faced with a “powerful foe” like the Noble Consort, the three naturally banded together. They shared common traits: low status and low intelligence—in short, they were classic “pest” cannon fodder who lacked brains but loved causing trouble.

Years ago, the Old Emperor had chosen them specifically for their humble backgrounds, ensuring they could never threaten the Empress’s position. The Empress, however, was kind-hearted and felt guilty toward them; while she lived, she treated them gently and ensured no one bullied them.

Unfortunately, this earned her little gratitude; instead, they harbored years of resentment over the Princess’s preferential treatment. Since then, they never missed an opportunity to annoy the Princess—though it was usually petty bickering that acted like a thorn in one’s throat; to take it seriously would make one look small-minded.

During the Princess’s youth, she likely would have suffered much more if the Noble Consort hadn’t suppressed them from the shadows. In the early stages of the original plot, these three were indispensable tools for building up the “face-slapping” narrative.

But having them cause trouble for you was not a pleasant experience. A “pest” is a pest because they lack any sense of boundaries. This time was no exception.

The three brightly dressed women barged in, noisily criticizing everything from the room’s decor to the surrounding maids. Seeing that no one stepped forward to serve them, they grew even more displeased.

“What are you useless wretches doing?! Don’t you know to serve your masters when they arrive?!” The woman in the lead looked at Xiao Muyu, who had just finished a simple wash, and smiled haughtily. “You over there, come and rub my shoulders!”

A maid nearby whispered a reminder: “This is the Saintess of the Temple.”

The woman glared at her. “I know that! That’s why I called her. She’s just a minor Saintess; it’s her blessing to serve me.” She looked back at Xiao Muyu. “Hurry up!”

It was clear they were here to find trouble. Xiao Muyu looked at the woman shouting, then at the one looking at her nails as if ready to scratch someone, and finally at the one sizing up the room while preparing a stomach full of caustic remarks. She recalled just how much of a headache these three were in the original story.

I regret everything. This was a feeling Xiao Muyu had been experiencing frequently lately.

She let out a long sigh and turned to look at the person behind her. Pei Qiuyue’s facial muscles were twitching; she looked annoyed yet was struggling hard to suppress a laugh. The Princess shot them a glance, reached out to lift the curtain, and walked out.

Outside, the women were complaining about the poor quality of the tea when one of them felt a pair of hands rest on her shoulders.

“Haven’t you eaten?” the woman asked, assuming Xiao Muyu had come to massage her. “Use more strength!”

The nearby maids lowered their heads, trembling with fear. The other consorts, spotting the person behind her, also held their breath.

Clatter—

A teacup hit the floor, accompanied by a sharp, distinct sound.

Crack. Like the sound of a bone breaking.

“AAAAAAAAHHH!” And, of course, the woman’s scream.

Everyone nearby flinched, and those closest instinctively covered their ears.

“You have quite the nerve,” the Princess’s cold voice rang out. She casually tossed the woman to the ground, took a handkerchief from a maid, and wiped her hands. “Who told you to come here?”

The uninvited guests—except for the one screaming—shrank into a huddle, shivering. The Princess’s reaction far exceeded their expectations. In the past, they had provoked her, especially after the Emperor became bedridden. The Princess was cold and usually disdained bickering with them, at most punishing them with house arrest. Furthermore, due to the late Empress’s dying wish, neither she nor the Emperor would truly take their lives unless they crossed a major line.

Additionally, the Princess’s elder brothers held positions in court, and she didn’t want to cause rumors, so she had never truly “lost face” and raised a hand against them before. Her previous policy was simply “out of sight, out of mind.”

The Princess is different from before. Everyone realized this.

But some were still not thinking clearly, and their pain turned into indignation. “Even if you are the Princess, I am still your elder! How can you be so disrespectful—AAAHHH!”

The Princess smashed a teacup near her; it zipped precisely past the woman’s cheek, the splashing hot tea making her flinch. The “culprit” didn’t even bother with an explanation or a reprimand.

“Drag them out,” the Princess said coldly. “They are not to come out without my command.”

The lead woman refused to give up, shaking off a maid’s hand and continuing to shout through her pain. Her followers’ eyes darted around as they joined in, accusing the Princess of lacking etiquette and blaming Xiao Muyu, saying the Saintess must have led the Princess astray.

Xiao Muyu: “…” I’m getting shot while lying down again?

The scene devolved into a noisy mess, no different from a marketplace. Even Pei Qiuyue showed signs of anger. Before she could step out, the Noble Consort entered.

“Oh, why is it so lively here today?” The Consort looked amazed, her expression full of mock curiosity. “I didn’t realize my sisters and I were so in sync—are you all so eager to congratulate the Princess and the Saintess?”

The Noble Consort remained as flamboyant as ever. As soon as she arrived, the other women instantly quieted down. They feared the Princess, but dared to annoy her because they knew she followed the rules. The Noble Consort was the opposite. She was famously lawless; aside from the Emperor and the Princess, she would hit anyone. In the past, many who offended her had quietly disappeared.

The Consort’s gaze shifted to a nearby maid. “You, tell me.”

The maid looked at the Princess, and seeing no objection, lowered her head and clearly recounted the events. Hearing the part where they accused the Princess, the Consort’s face darkened. Before the story was even finished, she took a whip from her attendant.

Soon, all three women were screaming. Xiao Muyu, her head throbbing from the noise, shot the Princess a hesitant look. The Consort was in a foul mood; the more they screamed, the angrier she got, and her lashes landed solidly. The only difference was that these consorts knew how to dodge, rolling on the floor without any regard for their image.

A total farce.

The Princess frowned. “Everyone out. Don’t dirty the floor.”

The Consort cracked the whip one last time, glaring coldly at the trio. “Consider yourselves lucky.” She tossed the whip aside and ordered guards to drag them out, while insincerely telling someone to fetch a doctor for them.

The Princess asked, “What are you here for?”

The Consort turned around, her face changing faster than a book’s pages as she broke into a smile. “I heard the news of your marriage, of course. I wondered why I ran into them shouting on the way; turns out they came here to make a scene. I was worried, so I stopped by.”

The Princess glanced at her, seemingly unconvinced.

“…And to see how the Princess and the Saintess are getting along.” The Consort looked at Xiao Muyu; her expression was clearly unhappy, but she didn’t offer any more caustic remarks.

The Princess warned, “Don’t try anything with her.”

“Since the Princess likes her… she’s just a toy, it’s no big deal.” The Consort lowered her voice for the last part; it was unclear if the Princess heard. She sat in the nearest seat and tapped the table, chin tilted toward Xiao Muyu. “What, the Saintess won’t do me the honor of having a cup of tea? Let’s use tea instead of wine; let bygones be bygones.”

The Consort was arrogant and had a temper; she never bowed to anyone, let alone apologized. This was the softest she had ever been. Pei Qiuyue gave Xiao Muyu a secret nudge. Xiao Muyu looked back and saw that Pei Qiuyue truly wanted her to reconcile with the Consort.

But… did the Consort really want to reconcile?

Xiao Muyu stepped forward tentatively. When she reached the Princess, the Princess pressed her down into a seat. Sensing the tension in the shoulders beneath her hand, the Princess patted her gently and whispered, “It’s fine.”

Xiao Muyu knew she was being comforted. She sat on the Princess’s other side, using her to block the Consort’s view. The Consort gripped her teacup, a smile still on her face.

Cold blade-light flickered in the winter night.

Behind her were swaying tree shadows. A bird like a crow perched on a branch, gazing into the distance. A breeze rustled the leaves, and the crow suddenly turned its head, revealing a pair of red eyes inches away.

the blade-light fell rapidly—

Whoosh— A gust of wind blew through the leaves.

“What are you doing here?”

A cold hand grabbed her wrist. Xiao Muyu instinctively hissed in pain; the bruise from the previous grip hadn’t faded yet. She turned her head, missing the Princess’s downward gaze. The Princess glanced at her wrist, seeing the dark marks in the moonlight, and instinctively loosened her grip. Then, she draped her cloak over Xiao Muyu.

Xiao Muyu blinked hard, slowly regaining her senses. Looking around, she realized she was standing in the garden wearing only a thin robe, the chill seeping into her bones. She shivered, looking even more bewildered than the Princess. “How did I get here?”

“You ran out suddenly by yourself,” the Princess whispered, her voice low and carrying a trace of gentle concern in the moonlight. “What’s wrong?”

“Maybe I was dreaming,” Xiao Muyu murmured, looking up at the branches that were identical to those in her dream—even the curve of the leaves was the same. But there was no bird, no person, and no flash of a blade.

And yet, she had felt a very distinct surge of killing intent.