I Marry the Sickly Young Lord as a Substitute Bride to Bring Him Good Fortune

My stepmother said, "Your sister can't go. You go instead."

At sixteen, Wen Lan was carried into the Marquis of Yongning's household in a marriage meant to bring good fortune. Her groom was a sickly man who might not live out the year. At the wedding, all she saw was a pair of boots, and all she smelled was medicine.

On their wedding night, someone wearing a wooden mask came in. He sat on a low stool by the bed, his back to her, clasped her hand, and stayed there all night.

Just before dawn, he said, "You shouldn't have come."

Wen Lan had no intention of leaving.

Her mother had once left this household. She had died of an illness ten years ago, leaving behind only a medical book and a thin coffin. Wen Lan had studied medicine, learned more about herbs than words, and sensed that something was wrong as soon as she entered the household.

The heir's prescription hadn't changed in seven years. He was given three fen of aconite every day.

Later, behind the door in the west courtyard that had been locked for fifteen years, she saw another face, exactly the same as the first.

There were two heirs in this household. One lived out in the open. The other had been hidden behind a wall for fifteen years.

One wanted to send her away. The other refused to let her go.

And she only wanted to find out one thing: how exactly had her mother died?