An Author and Protagonist Got a Happy Ending [Transmigration] - Chapter 3

Three days later, inside the Princess’s sleeping quarters.

Pei Qiuyue entered and gave the servants a meaningful look. The maids bowed and quietly exited. Pei Qiuyue closed the heavy doors herself and walked toward the inner chamber.

The Princess was standing by the window, gazing at the distant, continuous snow-capped mountains—a vast expanse of white standing between heaven and earth, desolate and monotonous.

The official documents on the desk were in disarray, arranged in a sequence that no one else could understand, or perhaps they were simply the aftermath of a vent. As Pei Qiuyue approached, she noticed several portraits scattered on the floor.

Taking a closer look, Pei Qiuyue couldn’t help but let out a small laugh.

They were portraits of young, talented men—all, without exception, handsome and from distinguished families. Among them was even her own younger brother, the third young master of the Pei Manor.

Her brother was a spoiled youth of no great talent, frequently scolded by his elders for being unlearned. If he had any merit, it was simply that he wasn’t malicious and was fiercely loyal to the royal family. This was clearly the absolute minimum standard the old Emperor had set for the Princess’s potential suitor.

—The background had to be good enough to support the Princess, but the man himself couldn’t have too much wit or ambition, lest the Princess be unable to suppress him in the future.

The old Emperor had taken great pains for his only daughter. Aside from gradually handing over power, his greatest worry was the Princess’s marriage. The Princess was nineteen this year; in an ordinary family, she would have married and had children long ago.

In earlier years, when the Emperor was in better health, he felt no one was worthy of his daughter and blocked every suitor who dared to ask. The Princess was happy to enjoy her peace. But as his health declined, he began to worry that the Princess was too young to stand alone against the open and hidden arrows of the court. He specially permitted the second miss of the Pei family to stay by the Princess’s side and began arranging for a marriage.

Unfortunately, the Princess was the only one who didn’t appreciate the sentiment. In the past, she could maintain a surface-level peace, patiently listening to others’ opinions or even condescending to meet someone. Lately, however, she became impatient at the mere mention of a name. Since the Emperor was bedridden, no one else dared to bring it up.

Pei Qiuyue bent down to pick up the portraits. They were covered in wrinkles and tears where they had been crumpled by hand, and stained with ink as if they had been used as scrap paper for illegible drafts.

The Princess turned to look at her. “What is it?”

“People from the Temple are here. They say the Saintess will come in person today to apologize. Does the Princess wish to see her?”

“No,” the Princess rejected the idea without a second thought.

Pei Qiuyue expected this answer. After a moment’s thought, she replied, “Then I will go deal with her and send her back.”

The Princess nodded noncommittally.

As Pei Qiuyue tidied the portraits and prepared to set them back on the desk, she caught a glimpse of the Princess’s annoyed expression. She paused and curiously asked, “Could it be that the Princess has someone in her heart?”

Otherwise, why treat these portraits like objects for venting anger? Pei Qiuyue swallowed the rest of her sentence, thinking to herself that it was unlikely. The Princess occasionally showed a youthful or immature side, but she usually kept her emotions hidden. Her indifference toward people and things was almost abnormal; it was hard to imagine her falling in love.

But after a short pause, the Princess actually nodded. “I do.”

Pei Qiuyue was shocked. Just as she was about to press for more details, a maid arrived to report that the Saintess had arrived.

The Princess frowned, her disgust unconcealed. Pei Qiuyue sighed inwardly, letting the topic drop for now. She put down the portraits and went to handle the trivialities regarding the Saintess. Perhaps, she thought, she could first ask the Saintess exactly how she had offended the Princess.

Xiao Muyu was led by a maid into the side hall for receiving guests. The maid served tea and asked her to wait a moment while she went to inform the Princess.

As a newcomer, Xiao Muyu didn’t know the etiquette, so she simply nodded in silence. She kept her hands tucked in her sleeves, gripping the small porcelain vial tightly, feeling restless.

She was here to execute the “mission” given to her by the National Preceptor. Although death was inevitable sooner or later, later was always better than sooner. Moreover, when she was lying in bed like a corpse, she didn’t exactly have the option to refuse.

However, Xiao Muyu wasn’t completely without chips. Though she didn’t remember the plot details perfectly, knowing the characters’ true natures was her advantage. The National Preceptor was a pure villain—cruel, black-hearted, and petty. With survival as the goal, following him would lead to no good end.

In contrast, while the Princess was cold and disliked the original owner, she wasn’t a hypocrite who said one thing and did another. She possessed basic magnanimity. After some thought, Xiao Muyu decided to take this chance to defect to the Princess.

She didn’t know if the National Preceptor was overconfident or if it was just a common flaw among pure villains, but when he plotted in the Temple, he never hid it from the original owner. He even actively exposed details of his plans. Consequently, the original owner’s memory contained a massive amount of incriminating evidence.

In the early stages of the Princess’s struggle against the National Preceptor, she suffered many losses specifically because she lacked this evidence. Now that Xiao Muyu was bringing such a “grand gift,” she didn’t believe the Princess wouldn’t be interested.

—Of course, the prerequisite was actually seeing the Princess and surviving long enough to finish speaking.

When the maid returned saying the Princess was busy and couldn’t see guests, Xiao Muyu’s heart sank. Whatever she feared most was exactly what happened. She couldn’t understand why the Princess loathed her so much. In both the original plot and the original owner’s memories, they had very little interaction.

Did I awaken some weird ‘hated at first sight’ ability when I transmigrated? she wondered.

Just then, Pei Qiuyue walked in. After some small talk, Pei Qiuyue sat down, looking ready for a long conversation. Because the Princess didn’t want to completely break ties with the Temple but also didn’t want to see the Saintess, Pei Qiuyue had to offer some soft words on her behalf.

That was the first reason. The second was that Pei Qiuyue was curious herself—she wanted to know what magic this Saintess possessed to make the Princess show such vivid loathing.

As she gently comforted Xiao Muyu, she studied her. Perhaps because she had just recovered from a major illness, her face was particularly pale, making her look soft and fragile. At first glance, she seemed completely non-threatening, only evoking pity.

—It was no wonder people called her a “vixen” behind her back; sometimes being too beautiful was a sin in itself.

Xiao Muyu was also studying Pei Qiuyue—quite openly, in fact. She found the face unfamiliar, but the gentle voice left a deep impression.

“You’re the good person who spoke up for me last time,” Xiao Muyu said. “Are you Pei Qiuyue?”

Pei Qiuyue paused at the blunt description, then gave a light laugh. “The Saintess actually knows me?”

“Of course. The second miss of the General’s Manor, the Princess’s… ahem, good friend. I’ve heard things.”

Xiao Muyu had some impression of Pei Qiuyue. She was the standard “well-bred young lady”—gentle and submissive in word and deed, conservative in her actions, and low-profile. However, she was meticulous and thorough, perfectly complementing the cold and decisive Princess. She assisted the Princess from the shadows and was fiercely loyal—an indispensable right-hand woman.

In other words: this person was trustworthy.

Xiao Muyu breathed a sigh of relief, her smile becoming a bit more eager. Her fingers rubbed the porcelain vial; she figured telling Pei Qiuyue would be the same as telling the Princess. Plus, Pei Qiuyue wouldn’t order her beheaded at the slightest provocation.

Pei Qiuyue’s eyes grew a bit more somber, losing some of their previous softness. She turned slightly and replied neutrally, “Is that so? I didn’t realize I had such a grand reputation.”

Xiao Muyu hesitated for a moment, then pulled out the vial. “Second Miss, I have something to tell you. It’s regarding—”

The word “Preceptor” never made it out. Xiao Muyu felt a sudden, sharp pain in her chest. It was as if several blades had been plunged into her heart without warning. Her vision went black, and she collapsed toward the floor.

Clatter—

Her hand went limp, and the small porcelain vial rolled across the ground.

“Saintess!” Pei Qiuyue jumped, letting out a cry of alarm. “What’s wrong with you?”

Xiao Muyu couldn’t hear her, so she couldn’t respond. She felt something pounding against her eardrums. She instinctively bit her tongue to keep from screaming in pain, and the thick taste of blood filled her mouth. After the sharp pain in her chest came a searing heat—so hot it felt like she was burning up, yet it strangely numbed the previous agony.

Seeing the person on the floor in genuine agony, Pei Qiuyue composed herself and hurriedly called for help. “Someone! Quickly, get Doctor Shen!”

The side hall became a scene of chaos. Perhaps the “empty-vase” Saintess was pulling another stunt. The Princess, in a foul mood, had no desire to interfere; she trusted Pei Qiuyue to handle such trivialities.

However, at the thought of the Saintess’s face…

The Princess set down her brush and looked at the similar features on the paper, feeling a wave of irritation. That long, ethereal dream had ended long ago, yet she couldn’t forget it. She didn’t dare treat it as absolute fact, yet she couldn’t banish it from her mind—especially after seeing the Saintess’s face.

The woman in the dream had an equally gorgeous, almost bewitching face, but she was nothing like the polished Saintess. Being covered in blood was her normal state; mangled, gruesome wounds were a common sight. When one struggles on the edge of life and death, being “clean and pretty” isn’t a priority.

But those eyes… they were stunningly beautiful. Even a moment before a blade or a monster’s fangs fell, those eyes always shone with light—like an inextinguishable fire that burned away all the dark filth.

At first, the Princess didn’t understand what that light represented. Later, as she sat alone in the dream’s wind and snow, she slowly understood: it was the vitality of life. A craving to live, a refusal to give up hope, and the ability to maintain one’s true self in a world where order had collapsed.

That woman was the person who changed the least in that dream. The only changes were external—dust and scars on her clothes or skin. She never indulged in pain or resentment. At first, the Princess thought she was like wild grass on a cliff—tenacious. Later, she thought she was like a pine tree—terrifyingly resilient. Finally, she changed her mind: that person was the sun itself, causing the hearts of those who watched her to grow warm.

After waking up, the Princess kept her buried in her heart as a light to guide her. Only in the middle of the night did she occasionally realize that what she wanted might be more than just a memory.

Then, she met the legendary, peerless beauty of the Saintess. She was beautiful, yes, but like a piece of finely carved porcelain—the one thing she didn’t look like was a living, breathing person. Furthermore, she had a malicious heart…

The Princess frowned and carefully put away the drawing. She intended to ignore the commotion outside. Just as she was about to take a nap, Pei Qiuyue pushed the door open, looking frantic.

“Princess! Please, go save the Saintess!”

Seeing the Princess remain unmoved, Pei Qiuyue disregarded protocol, stepped forward to grab her hand, and whispered, “You absolutely cannot let her die here!”