After three months in the death-cell, Jiang Wange was dragged out by her stepmother and forced into a marriage to bring good fortune.
The man she was to marry was Xiao Jiuming, the regent. He commanded an army and had killed countless people. His three previous princess consorts were all dead. Everyone in the capital said he was so ill-fated that he brought death to his wives: whoever married him would die.
On their wedding night, Xiao Jiuming kicked open the bridal chamber door, drenched in blood. He grabbed her by the throat and asked, “How would you like to die?”
Jiang Wange opened her left hand. A blue lotus glowed coldly in her palm.
“If I die, no one can cure the cold-corrosion poison in your body. You won’t live past this winter.”
Xiao Jiuming stared at the flower and let go.
He thought he had married a sacrificial pawn.
Only later did he discover that this woman could absorb every kind of poison, knew how to use poison bugs, and was even more ruthless than the covert guards under his command.
When his political enemies poisoned her, she simply picked up the poisoned wine and poured it down their throats instead.
When a consort sent poisonous snakes into her room, the next day the consort herself collapsed, foaming at the mouth.
When the emperor was left unconscious after someone used a poison bug on him, she forced it out of his body before the entire court, leaving the officials kneeling in a sea of robes.
Xiao Jiuming began to panic.
He wasn’t afraid she would die. He was afraid she would run away.
He summoned his three thousand cavalrymen to surround the prince’s residence, claiming it was to strengthen security.
Leaning against the door and cracking melon seeds, Jiang Wange asked, “My lord, who are you guarding against?”
Xiao Jiuming remained expressionless. “You, in case you run off.”
