A Concubine's Competitive Life in the Prince's Household-Chapter 98

The voice was soft and gentle, carrying a soothing power that brought comfort.

Zhao Yang raised her head in a daze, her blurred vision gradually clearing as Shen Wei’s fair, delicate face came into view.

“Sh-Shen Wei…”

Tears instantly spilled from Zhao Yang’s eyes as she threw herself into Shen Wei’s arms, sobbing. Her bitter, heartbroken tears soaked the front of Shen Wei’s robe.

Shen Wei patted her back reassuringly, her tone tender. “It’s all over now. There’s no need to rush, no need to fear.”

Zhao Yang wept for a long time, as though pouring out a lifetime of grievances.

Only when her tears finally subsided did Shen Wei gesture for Yun'er to bring the prepared medicine for cold and fever. Shen Wei carefully fed Zhao Yang spoonful by spoonful with a small porcelain spoon.

After drinking the medicine, Zhao Yang slowly stopped crying. Too restless to sleep, she curled up in the deepest corner of the bed, like a kitten seeking refuge.

Yun'er entered the bedchamber and whispered to Princess Zhao Yang, “Your Highness, a man’s body was found in the woods near East Lake. His throat was pierced with several bloody holes…”

Zhao Yang remained silent, her eyes vacant.

Shen Wei sighed inwardly and instructed Yun'er, “Have the guards throw the corpse into the mass graves for the wild dogs. As for the incident of Her Highness’s disappearance last night, ensure everyone keeps their mouths shut. Not a word of it must reach the ears of the people in Yanjing.”

This matter concerned the reputation of the Great Qing Kingdom’s princess. What happened last night had to remain a closely guarded secret.

Yun'er understood the gravity of the situation and nodded hurriedly. At the same time, she couldn’t help but feel admiration for Shen Wei.

This Lady Shen appeared delicate, yet she had remained composed in the face of danger. Last night, Yun'er had nearly lost her mind in panic, while Shen Wei had calmly and methodically directed everyone’s actions.

Shen Wei stayed by Zhao Yang’s side in the bedchamber all morning.

Zhao Yang remained despondent, as if she had suffered a devastating blow. Around midday, a servant from outside the courtyard announced that Yan Yunting had come again.

Zhao Yang lifted her head sluggishly. After a long silence, she rasped, “Have him driven away… I… I never want to see him again.”

She lowered her gaze.

That night’s storm, the vile man who had lunged at her—it had all washed away her hopes for Yan Yunting. She finally realized that Yan Yunting was not the good man she had believed him to be.

He had always toyed with her, as though teasing a loyal little dog. Throw it a bone, and it would follow him devotedly forever.

“Good! This servant will see him off at once!” Yun'er exclaimed joyfully, eagerly summoning the guards at the gate to drive him away.

The room fell into silence.

Shen Wei set down her teacup and saw Zhao Yang’s tears fall soundlessly. After a long pause, Zhao Yang finally whispered hoarsely, “Shen Wei, I don’t want to love Yan Yunting anymore…”

She would tear him out of her heart, severing all ties completely.

A faint smile touched Shen Wei’s lips, her heart swelling with relief. After weathering the storm, Zhao Yang had finally come to see the truth. This was a good thing.

...

At the courtyard gate, Yan Yunting frowned deeply, pressing Yun'er for confirmation. “The princess truly refuses to see me?”

Yun'er lifted her chin and replied coldly, “Minister Yan, this servant has made it perfectly clear. Her Highness does not wish to see you—not today, not ever again! You and Miss Tantai may live happily together; the princess will not interfere!”

Yan Yunting fell silent, his heart heavy with discomfort.

This Zhao Yang was far too willful!

He had merely been delayed by the storm and missed their appointment. Such a trivial matter, yet she had made such a scene.

How utterly unreasonable.

This was yet another way Zhao Yang fell short of Tantai Rou. Tantai Rou was always gentle and considerate, understanding of every hardship he faced. Zhao Yang, on the other hand, was excessively spoiled and stubborn.

A man had his pride. Repeated rejections had dealt a heavy blow to Yan Yunting’s self-esteem. Displeased, he said, “Please inform Her Highness that I, Yan Yunting, will soon leave the capital. It may be three to five years before I return.”

With a long journey ahead, their parting could span years. Before his departure, Yan Yunting had hoped to see Zhao Yang one last time and make her a promise: once he returned to Yanjing, he would personally seek the emperor’s decree to marry her.

Yet now, in the midst of her tantrum, she refused to see him. Yan Yunting knew she would regret this—regret not seeing him today.

Yun'er couldn’t have been happier. “Fine, fine! Not seeing you for three to five years—that’s excellent news.”

Now that Princess Zhao Yang was disillusioned with Yan Yunting, time would be the best remedy. Three to five years later, she would likely have moved on entirely.

Repeatedly mocked by a mere maid, Yan Yunting’s anger flared. With a sharp flick of his sleeve, he spat, “I take my leave.”

He turned and strode away without a backward glance.

Yun'er would have gladly sent him off with drums and gongs. She pursed her lips and scoffed, “A petty minister like him—who does he think he is? As if Her Highness couldn’t live without him!”

When Yun'er returned to the courtyard, she found Zhao Yang already out of bed.

Zhao Yang’s face was pale, still bearing traces of illness. She instructed Yun'er calmly, “Take all the hairpins in the sandalwood box and sell them at the shops in Yanjing.”

Yun'er nodded eagerly. “This servant will see to it at once!”

Princess Zhao Yang owned an exquisite sandalwood box containing all the hairpins Yan Yunting had given her. She had treasured them like priceless jewels, carrying the box with her wherever she went.

Looking back now, Zhao Yang was stunned to realize—

She had gifted Yan Yunting handmade clothes, hair ornaments, rare medicines—anything precious the world had to offer.

Yet in all the years she had adored him, all she had received in return were five or six ordinary hairpins.

Love had never been equal.

Yun'er clutched the sandalwood box and dashed out of the courtyard, afraid Zhao Yang might change her mind if she lingered a moment longer.

...

At dawn the next day, Yan Yunting departed Yanjing by carriage. The carriage paused by the roadside, where Tantai Rou stood waiting.

Dressed in a plain, flowing gown, she stood quietly at the crossroads, appearing fragile and pitiable. As Yan Yunting stepped down from the carriage and saw her thinly clad figure, he chided gently, “It’s cold today. You’re frail—what if you catch another chill? I would worry.”

Tears shimmered in Tantai Rou’s eyes as she whispered, “Brother Yunting, who knows when we’ll meet again after today? The border is perilous—please take care. Rou’er will wait for you in Yanjing, always.”

Such tender words would move any man’s heart.

Yan Yunting softened, silently vowing not to betray such a gentle woman. “While I’m away, Zhao Yang may target you. Rou’er, you must protect yourself.”

Tantai Rou nodded meekly, her gaze affectionate. “The princess is not a spiteful person. If I make no mistakes, she won’t go out of her way to trouble me.”

Yan Yunting scoffed. “Zhao Yang has always been willful.”

Just one broken promise, and now she wouldn’t even see him. He turned to gaze back at Yanjing, where the morning bustle of pedestrians filled the streets. Yet Zhao Yang’s carriage never appeared.

A deep disappointment settled in Yan Yunting’s heart.

He was leaving for years—and she couldn’t even come to bid him farewell.

As the hour grew late, Yan Yunting exchanged a reluctant goodbye with Tantai Rou before returning to his carriage. The wheels rolled forward, but his mood was inexplicably somber, a faint sense of loss gnawing at him.

He had been away for three to five years, leaving Zhao Yang alone in Yanjing, where countless talented young men vied for the princess’s favor. What if her heart changed...

This chapt𝙚r is updated by freeωebnovēl.c૦m.

Yan Yunting lifted the carriage curtain, hoping to catch one last glimpse of Zhao Yang. In the faint morning light, he suddenly spotted a slender figure hiding behind a stack of goods at the city gate. Though her face was obscured, he recognized the white jade plum blossom hairpin adorned with gold that shimmered in her hair.

It was the very hairpin he had gifted Zhao Yang!

The heavy stone weighing on Yan Yunting’s heart finally dropped. She had indeed come to see him off in secret, disguised as an ordinary woman to avoid drawing attention.

Lowering the curtain, he let out a quiet sigh of relief. Now he could depart with peace of mind—Zhao Yang would wait for his return in Yanjing.

As ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌‍the carriage slowly rolled away, two young women chatted near the city gate. One gasped in admiration, “Sister, your hairpin is exquisite! Where did you buy it?”

The other replied with a soft laugh, “From a shop in Yanjing—and for a surprisingly reasonable price.”

“You’re so lucky! That piece looks nothing short of extraordinary.”

The bustling city gate remained as lively as ever, its flow of people unchanged.