The Xun clan of Yingchuan has long been a prominent family, and its marriage connections are all to noble imperial houses. Now, as traitors wreak havoc on the state, the eunuch Tang Heng interferes and coerces the Xun family's third son into marrying his adopted daughter.
Everyone knows that the infamous adopted daughter of the Chief Eunuch is talentless and immoral, arrogant and overbearing, and has been rejected in marriage repeatedly. At twenty, she is still unmarried.
For her to marry into a noble clan is to marry up. For Xun Yu to marry her is a disgrace.
He idly taps a chess piece as rain sweeps past the sparse curtains. His handsome, refined face is untouched by worldly dust, and his eyes are as still as a cold night. Xun Yu doesn't care about the mockery of outsiders.
His marriage is merely a tool for balancing the interests of various parties. What does it matter whom he marries? He only hopes this woman can get what she wants from him.
Otherwise, binding two unwilling souls with a marriage contract would be a tragedy.
The vermilion doors, the swaying red candles, the fragrance in the air. On their wedding night, the bridal chamber is empty. Tang Ling has already climbed out the window and scrambled up the tall courtyard wall.
Whoever wants this marriage can have it.
On the third day after transmigrating, Tang Ling is told she's to be married. It's like being struck by lightning. She hasn't even figured out where she is before she's hoisted into a wedding sedan, and somehow she's acquired a husband.
A wicked arranged marriage!
During the wedding ceremony, her husband had kept his distance with an aloof, superior air. Those long, graceful hands hadn't even bothered to help her, and on their wedding night, he was nowhere to be seen.
He probably didn't want this any more than she did. If she didn't run now, when would she?
Tang Ling braces her arms against the brown tiles and struggles to climb. A cool voice suddenly comes from below.
"Why aren't you using the door?"
In the dark, Tang Ling can't see the speaker's face. "Obviously, because I'd get caught if I used the door."
"Who would catch you?" His tone is slightly hesitant, curious and confused.
Tang Ling tells him not to get in her way or meddle in her business. She's busy.
The person below falls silent. He doesn't leave, either, standing beneath a tree in silence.
Her cumbersome wedding clothes become a hindrance at the crucial moment. Tang Ling loses her footing and slides rapidly down. Looks like she's about to be reincarnated again. This time, she lived for... three days, and died by... falling off a wall.
But the pain she expects never comes. A figure in red, light as the evening clouds and silent as a shadow, catches the woman who had been boldly pulling up tiles and climbing over walls.
A cool, enticing fragrance fills her senses. Beneath the moonlight, the man looks like an immortal descended to earth, his stern, deep-pool features gleaming in the pale night.
Tang Ling sees his face, his bright red wedding robes, and the unforgettable fragrance.
Something is very, very wrong.
This looks like the person who just married her.
Xun Yu looks down at the person in his arms, amused. A smile flickers in his eyes, clearing them like a breeze. "I'll let you go."
If they hadn't both been discovered halfway over the wall and dragged back together, it might have been the most beautiful promise in the world.
Afterward, Tang Ling realizes that relying on others is pointless. She might as well play the villain to the hilt and get a divorce as soon as possible.
Who would have thought that, day after day by his side, she wouldn't become a villain at all? Instead, this tsundere, devious young master would completely outmaneuver her. Xun Yu's promise changes from "I'll let you go" to "I'll go with you," and then to "Take me with you."
Tang Ling: "..." This is a little sudden.
But since Lord Xun is asking, returning kindness for kindness isn't out of the question.
[Reading Guide]
1. Marriage first, love later.
2. A sweet little story.
(Pre-release blurb, January 26, 2025)
Theme: Life is as brief as morning dew, and the days that have passed are full of sorrow
