Chapter 1: The Princess Consort Has Returned from the Dead

The Flower Lantern Festival in the Li Kingdom was a scene of harmony and joy. People strolled among lanterns, guessed riddles, and sailed on flower boats. Nearly all the citizens of the imperial city flocked to Vermilion Bird Street to bask in the festivities. Yet, while the festival outside was abuzz with cheerful crowds, the Prince Jin’s residence, despite its towering red lanterns and festive decorations, was shrouded in a tense and somber atmosphere. The royal guards encircled the manor, forbidding anyone from entering or leaving.

Xia Jiujiang slowly regained consciousness, disturbed by the cacophony nearby. Someone was dragging her along, grumbling irritably, “Tch, a princess? More like a bringer of misfortune! She’s barely arrived, and the Prince Jin’s household is already in chaos.”

“Even caused the prince to fall gravely ill.”

“She died well, the sooner she’s gone the better.”

“She’s already dead, so mind your tongue. Let’s burn her quickly and be done with it.”

Xia Jiujiang jerked in alarm. Burn her? She was still alive! What was there to cremate?

The servant hauling her was so startled, he let go at once, dropping her to the ground and stammered in fright, “She… she moved!”

“Nonsense, the princess is dead as can be.”

“Don’t spook yourself at this hour.”

Suddenly, Xia Jiujiang opened her eyes, her gaze cold as she scanned her surroundings, dazed and perplexed. Hadn’t she died?

The pallbearers recoiled a full meter away, wailing like banshees, “A—a corpse come back to life!”

Sitting up, Xia Jiujiang took in the antique chamber: crystal night pearls illuminated the room, white jade paved the floors, peony-carved pearwood adorned the walls, and a screen embroidered with cranes and landscapes divided the space. The luxury felt dreamlike, almost unreal.

Where was this place?

Xia Jiujiang was the heir of a medical and gu-worm family in the twenty-first century, conducting research on a newly discovered worm when her laboratory exploded. How could she have ended up in this strange place?

Suddenly, a flood of unfamiliar memories overwhelmed her. Li Kingdom… Princess Jin?

Her head throbbed as she looked down at her attire—a vibrant red wedding gown embroidered with auspicious patterns, golden peonies, and cranes, a jade buckle at her waist with a tasseled pendant. A bridal dress?

She had been reborn as the legitimate daughter of the Xia family, daughter of the Grand Chancellor, her mother a merchant’s daughter who died five years prior. Her rightful status was usurped, leaving her with less standing than a household maid—a title in name only.

But if she was so insignificant, how had she been granted marriage to Prince Jin?

This Xia Jiujiang bore the same name and appearance as herself, but unlike this body’s meek predecessor, her nature was anything but submissive—and she had even brought her gu mother with her!

The art of controlling gu worms was a closely guarded secret of her family, passed down through the women. Not even death and rebirth had severed her bond with the gu mother—was this fate?

Thanks to her formidable composure, Xia Jiujiang quickly collected herself. Rising to her feet, she surveyed the wedding chamber, its fiery red decorations at odds with the tense atmosphere, as a group of servants and guards brandished sticks at her.

“Are you human or ghost?” someone demanded.

“You were clearly dead, how are you alive again?”

“A vengeful spirit?”

The servants trembled as she dusted herself off.

Then, one man stepped forward, “No matter what she is, she caused the prince’s illness. Seize her!”

Did they think she was still the useless woman of before?

With a flick of her sleeve, Xia Jiujiang declared calmly, “Who dares lay a hand on me? I am Princess Jin, bestowed by Emperor Zongkang himself, mistress of this house. By what right do you seize me?”

Her commanding presence stunned everyone. Outsiders might not know, but within these walls it was common knowledge that the prince had no affection for his bride. Yet now Xia Jiujiang was asserting her authority, wielding her title like an imperial edict. Was she oblivious or simply audacious?

Yet her demeanor was precisely that of a true princess, leaving the servants bewildered.

Even Steward Meng, seasoned in court affairs, studied her in surprise. But he knew she spoke the truth—her imperial marriage was a decree from the emperor; any disrespect toward her was contempt for the throne.

Before the steward could respond, a voice interjected, “You still tried to harm the prince.”

Her words had cowed the servants but not the shadow guard, Nightshade—Prince Jin’s trusted aide and head of the household’s secret guards.

Without warning, Nightshade attacked, blade flashing toward Xia Jiujiang’s throat. She pivoted gracefully, spinning like a flower in bloom and evading the strike.

Nightshade’s sword thrust again, but her eyes flashed coldly as she caught the blade between two fingers.

The household’s head shadow guard, defeated by the so-called useless daughter of the Grand Chancellor, was left astounded.

Try to kill her? In their dreams.

With a flick of her fingers, Xia Jiujiang sent a force rebounding along the blade. Nightshade, having underestimated her, staggered back as his own attack was repelled, nearly crashing into the door.

A sheltered, incompetent young lady, suddenly transformed—her bizarre skills left the servants dumbstruck. Silence fell, and not a soul dared speak.

“Where is he?” Xia Jiujiang asked suddenly.

Steward Meng, caught off guard, replied, “Who?”

She scoffed, “Didn’t you say I poisoned the prince? Where is he? Who knows if you’re not using the emperor’s decree as a pretext to slander me for harming the prince out of your own discontent.”

Meng’s mouth fell open. He had never seen such brazen shamelessness—crying thief as she stole.

Yet at her question, many could not help but glance toward the inner chamber.

Following their gaze, Xia Jiujiang moved past the screen into the next room, with Steward Meng and Nightshade trailing anxiously, warning, “What are you doing? You’ve already caused the prince’s illness, you—”

Standing by the bed, Xia Jiujiang saw a man—long black hair cascading like silk, draped in a silver robe. In the moonlight, he seemed a celestial being untouched by mortal dust.

Such beauty left Xia Jiujiang entranced.

This must be her husband from the memories—Prince Jin, Jun Wuwen. She hadn’t expected him to be so ethereal. Clad in only an inner robe, he lacked the usual stern, forbidding aura and appeared even colder and more distant—yet in every aspect, unapproachable.

Steward Meng fumed, “You’ve already caused the prince’s illness, and now what more do you want?”

Xia Jiujiang glanced at him and said, “If you want your prince to live, then all of you get out.”