The Buddha’s Consort

In the third year of Xuanwu, under the Great Qi dynasty.

He stood at the pinnacle of power, secure on the dragon throne, with life and death in his hands. She left with nothing, alone in a temple, keeping company with a lamp and the Buddha.

He was the Supreme Emperor; she was a disciple of the Buddha. They had once been husband and wife, so why must they hurt each other? Whenever she looked up at him, all she could do was sigh out a Buddhist verse, then turn away and continue begging in her plain robes.

Excerpt One:

“I never divorced you! How dare you marry again!” Fury blazed in his eyes.

“Your Highness, you shouldn’t go back on your word...” Her expression remained calm as she lowered her head and pressed her lips together, hiding her guilty unease.

“Whoever you marry today, I’ll kill!” He was nearly beside himself. He had only let her go home; how could he have imagined she would be so bold as to marry again?

“I’m a discarded wife. There’s no need for Your Highness to get so angry...” She was growing anxious. She couldn’t let an innocent person be dragged into this because of her. Besides, he had come to the capital in secret. How could she let his identity be exposed?

“I’ll see how you manage to get married!” He looked smug; she could only sigh in resignation...

Excerpt Two:

She knelt in the middle of the grand hall, while he sat upon the dragon throne. She looked up at him, a faint smile on her lips, full of sorrow. But he kept his eyes fixed on the woman to his right, his gaze so tender.

She sighed. Once, that fiery gaze, capable of melting the whole world, had belonged to her. But time had passed, and everything had changed.

“Since Consort Xue is determined to leave, I cannot very well force her to stay... What does His Majesty think?” The woman seated on the phoenix throne furrowed her brows, looking somewhat uneasy.

Chu Yixuan cast a brief glance at the kneeling Xue Ruyi and said coldly, “Let her go.”

Xue Ruyi pressed herself to the floor, fighting to keep her voice from trembling. “I thank Your Majesty for your gracious mercy...”

And so, her long black hair was cut off at her shoulders. Her worldly cares were left behind, and she donned a Buddhist robe. Without looking back, she left the hall, never seeing the man on the dragon throne suddenly clutch his chest and convulse...

This is the story of a wounded girl’s growth~

The cruelest revenge isn’t repaying harm with harm. It’s not caring at all...

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