They met for the first time on their wedding night. She was the arrogant princess of the Underworld, and he was the ruthless crown prince of the Eastern Palace.
A pair of love-bound parasites lived inside them.
A hundred years of cultivation to cross paths on the same boat, a thousand years to...
Take your life!
She fell to her knees, and so did he.
They both collapsed, blood streaming from their seven orifices, unconscious.
How quickly could a newlywed concubine be banished to the Cold Palace?
Before dawn, apparently!
When Manshu opened her eyes the next day, she felt as miserable as if Heaven had cursed her. Her first words were, "Is that bastard crown prince dead yet? If not, send him on his way!"
Her beloved pet replied, "Dead? Burning your primordial spirit worked better than taking an immortal pill. If not for his mismatched fate, he'd nearly have ascended to immortality."
When the crown prince returned from court, he had people throw a hoe, a spinning wheel, and a pile of pots and pans at Manshu.
"Do it yourself and you'll have enough to eat. I hope you can eat vegetables you've grown yourself before you starve to death."
Manshu glanced at the group of ghosts, old and young, crouching obediently in the corner, and gave a scornful snort. "Remember how high and mighty you look right now."
After night fell, she held up a little paper figure covered in writing to her beloved pet's mouth. "Blow on it."
The paper concubine stayed behind in the Cold Palace while Manshu sneaked out of the palace with her pet.
Within a hundred paces, a silent shadow followed them.
A brothel dancer asked her, "And this masked gentleman is...?"
Manshu replied with a knowing air, "Oh, this ugly thing is obsessed with my beauty. If he can't see me, his heart aches. The kind of ache that can kill him."
