On a rainy night, Jiang Wanli saved a prince who had been gravely wounded, thinking she was simply doing a good deed.
But three days later, an imperial decree named her his princess consort.
“Anything I set my sights on is mine for the taking.” Shen Yanzhou gripped her chin and sneered.
She became the most exquisitely kept bird in the prince’s manor, watching him smash the medicine she had spent three days and nights preparing for the woman he cherished.
“You’re not fit to touch even one of her fingers.” Every word cut deep.
Only after she drank the abortion potion and vanished without a trace did Shen Yanzhou learn the pain of a heart being torn out.
Five years later, as plague ravaged the land, he knelt outside the quarantine zone and shouted, “Please, save the people!”
Jiang Wanli turned away impassively, leading a cute little child by the hand. “You’ve mistaken me for someone else, Your Highness.”
As he lay dying from his wounds, he clutched her hand tightly. “Wanli... don’t go...”
She pulled back her golden needle and sneered. “Your life belongs to me now.”
