After Becoming the Cannon Fodder Live-in Spouse A (GL) - Chapter 27: The Twenty-Seventh Day

Chapter 27: The Twenty-Seventh Day

Ever since Prince Qi mentioned wanting her to serve him in bed, Ye Fuguang had been on high alert, always ready.

She not only recalled the many steamy scenes from the original book but also reviewed in her mind the explicit stories she had read in her past life at the flower market and recently at the bookstore. Whenever Shen Jinglan’s presence drew near, her whole body tensed, and she couldn’t help but wonder:

What kind of atmosphere would the prince like?

What kind of position?

She had just recovered from a serious illness, her organs still weak. Could she really indulge in passion?

Could she handle it?

Shen Jinglan vaguely noticed the little princess’s strange gaze but didn’t think much of it at first. Instead, she pondered the matter Shen Jingming had come to discuss.

No one understood the entire process of the Yancheng battle six months ago better than she and her imperial brother.

Even now, Shen Jinglan had many thoughts to sort out. Some she had figured out while trapped in that endless hell during her coma, but she still needed to confirm them.

The grand court meeting in three days would be her chance.

She didn’t simply believe Shen Jingming’s visit was just to show off or eagerly push her to the execution ground for the court’s judgment. Even if he had some selfish motives, she never thought her imperial brother was the type to be satisfied by such an easy victory.

His inner desires had gradually revealed themselves since their eldest brother, Prince Jing Shen Hui, passed away. The Yancheng battle alone, where she lost troops and ruined her reputation, was far from enough.

The ending he wanted was perfect: when the Great Dynasty’s rule was stable and the land prosperous, he would strip her of her military power, she would make a grave mistake, and amidst the people’s regret, she would lose her honor in her later years. Then, forced by public outcry, he would reluctantly have her killed.

But that moment would not be now, nor was it six months ago.

Shen Jingming knew this clearly, and so did she. The Great Dynasty still needed her, this sharp blade, to hold the realm. The kingdom wasn’t stable enough to cook the hunting dog or hide the fine bow. How could a Yancheng battle, which should have been a certain victory, bring this scripted ending forward?

She stepped out of the breezy pavilion, her eyes no longer seeing the charming spring flowers in the garden. Her phoenix-like eyes focused on a deeper, more distant place as she ordered Yu Qing, “Open the Yaoguang Pavilion.”

The Yaoguang Pavilion was her study for handling military and political affairs, located in the main hall of the mansion. She had personally sealed it since leading troops north last year.

It was a mechanism pavilion built with Mohist techniques by a former dynasty’s famous minister. Its doors and windows were intricately designed, fireproof and waterproof when sealed, opened by twelve unique golden locks, comparable to the emperor’s treasury in Yong’an Palace. The pavilion also had various hidden spaces and mechanisms.

In short, it was where Shen Jinglan spent most of her time in the mansion before.

…

When Ye Fuguang followed to the main hall, she noticed its name. Sharp, sword-like strokes hung inconspicuously on a corner wall, reading “Qingshuang.”

She guessed Shen Jinglan might also practice martial arts here.

-_-!

Sure enough, upon entering, she saw a spacious courtyard with smooth bluestone paving. The eighteen types of weapons she had seen in TV dramas were neatly arranged on racks, along with archery targets, plum blossom stakes, and other setups.

What surprised her most was the center, where, after unlocking, a “click-clack” sound began, like a sealed yurt unfolding section by section, revealing doors and windows, transforming into a Yaoguang Pavilion that matched the other halls of Prince Qi’s mansion.

“Wow,” she exclaimed, dazzled.

Shen Jinglan, who hadn’t planned to bring her inside, suddenly turned her head and curved her lips. “Does the princess know how to grind ink?”

Ye Fuguang nodded eagerly.

As long as she could grind ink to visit such a cool ancient mechanism pavilion, she had to know how. If she didn’t, she’d learn on the spot.

So, she proudly stepped into the Yaoguang Pavilion ahead of Yu Qing, who stopped at the entrance. Her attention was immediately drawn to a vast sand table, like a topographic map, captivating her like a child unable to move at a model exhibition.

The Great Dynasty’s famous rivers, cities, and strategic locations were all displayed in the sand table. Green trees were carved from jade, city gates from gold, and rivers from rare sapphires. It exuded a refined luxury beyond Ye Fuguang’s wildest imagination and a grandeur that shook her soul.

Her eyes lit up from the gems’ glow, and she said dazedly, “Prince, is this the kingdom you conquered?”

The Great Dynasty’s territory here seemed incomplete.

Shen Jinglan stopped here too.

–

Looking at the lavish sand table in the Yaoguang Pavilion, Shen Jinglan’s mind filled with voices.

“General, you gave all the gold and silver to the soldiers. What do you keep for yourself? Didn’t you see the eldest prince’s gold-hooked jade armor? Everyone’s jealous! Aren’t you? Even if you’re not, our general’s achievements surpass the eldest and second princes. How can you not show off the spoils like them? When you follow the lord to become a prince or minister, how can you not display your trophies?”

“Hey, General, do you like this chest of clothes? I checked—they’re as fine as what the prettiest Dikun princess in Yong’an Palace wears. Shen Liu and Shen Eleven, those tasteless guys, said you’d kick me out for this… Ouch, I’ll take it! General, calm down! I’ll take thirty lashes myself. Don’t chase me!”

“The lord said today’s your birthday. We figured you don’t care for gold or silver, but you must love the kingdom you fought for. This blue gem for the cave cost me my red agate. I sent good news home, nearly couldn’t explain to my wife. She scolded me for being stingy. General, judge for me!”

“General, look! From Jiangning to Quancheng, the coastal cities are carved from my white jade. Nice, right?”

“My agate’s better. These northwest forests look vast. Once we crush Da Zhi’s opportunists, from south to north, this golden map will surely sit in the new dynasty’s Mingde Hall!”

“Hahaha, Shen Da’s right, General. How’s this birthday gift? Way grander than the eldest prince’s golden armor, right?”

…

Those noisy voices almost brought Shen Jinglan back to the camp with blazing bonfires and roasting pigs and sheep. Soldiers held bowls, eating hearty meat soup, while her personal guards surrounded her, clamoring and urging her to see the grand gift they prepared.

How did she respond then?

“Extravagant?”

Or “Nonsense?”

Her mind was full of turning the gift into military rations or funds for the public ledger—such killjoy thoughts. She didn’t live like the pampered Dikun from a noble family, as her guards said. They even wondered if Prince Yan had been harsh with her as a child, as she lacked the habits of noble ladies.

Yet, she was indeed Prince Yan’s most cherished child. Even her two Qianyuan brothers received less. When she wanted to join the army, Prince Yan let her, saying she’d return once she knew hardship. But she silently endured, raised a team of new recruits, and achieved a small feat, though the battle losses were somewhat unsightly.

And those disorganized, chaotic men, just hungry villagers in troubled times, slipped away after that battle.

Her eldest brother couldn’t help asking if she wanted to drag them back for military punishment. She paused, saying it was her lack of skill and she’d do better next time. They didn’t follow her because they didn’t trust her yet.

Her father stayed silent, pressed his forehead, saw her stubbornness, and assigned two guards to help her recruit and train more men. Those became her personal guards, but in later battles, familiar faces dwindled.

Shen Jinglan snapped back, looking at the splendid sand table, built by her guards initially to compete, later becoming a shared understanding—a kingdom pieced together city by city. Yet her eyes didn’t see the immense wealth but the piled bones.

One general’s success, ten thousand bones dry.

They used their scars and lives to forge Prince Qi’s glorious achievements.

She didn’t even bring back their bones. Now, she could only mourn their shadows before this golden pool, never imagining that only such objects would remain by her side.

–

The Yaoguang Pavilion was full of mechanisms, its fine woodwork dimming the light inside. Now, with no sound, the oppressive atmosphere grew heavier.

Ye Fuguang nervously fidgeted, feeling this oppression had nothing to do with her.

She quietly glanced at Prince Qi, still with that alluring face, but perhaps due to illness or something else, standing there was like… like Sisyphus in Greek mythology, pushing a boulder up a hill only for it to roll down, crushing her repeatedly.

Ye Fuguang was startled by her odd thought, but Shen Jinglan indeed seemed weighed down by something suffocating. Considering her recent recovery, her body likely couldn’t handle such strain. The little princess hesitated for two seconds.

Timidly, she ventured, “…Did I say something wrong?”

The vibrant figure she stared at snapped back.

Shen Jinglan looked at her, instantly returning to her earlier demeanor, smiling slightly. “No, I was just thinking how to answer your question.”

Pausing, she said, “This isn’t the kingdom I conquered.”

It was the kingdom she and her guards and soldiers protected together, not her achievement alone.

Ye Fuguang, like a clueless goose, let out a dazed “Oh.” She wanted to explore the round celestial globe but feared triggering Shen Jinglan’s emotions again. Standing awkwardly, she said:

“Prince, I’ll go grind ink.”

Shen Jinglan walked to the desk, opened a cabinet below, and took out a dried, bl00d-written cloth, replying casually, “No need.”

She knew the little princess just wanted to look around, like when she followed her father to the capital as a child, curiously wandering from city gate to end, comparing Yong’an’s markets to Yan’s.

Seeing Ye Fuguang’s hesitant look, Shen Jinglan paused, took out a nine-linked ring and a Luban lock, and handed them to her.

Looking at the toys, Ye Fuguang: “…”

She wasn’t three years old!

Even her friend’s three-year-old didn’t play with these, preferring to ride the elevator all day in a mansion!

Ye Fuguang took the toys, glanced outside, certain she wanted to play with the twelve locks Shen Jinglan and Yu Qing used to open the door, lifting and lowering the bars with satisfying clicks.

…

Shen Jinglan sat at the desk, looking at the cloth again.

Or rather, it was a letter.

A letter sent two years ago by a county magistrate under Quanzhou, accusing Li Yanlin, a high official, of allowing his family to build the Wanshi Garden in Quanzhou and Jiangning, collecting rare plants and animals, even forcing locals to serve as laborers to hunt century-old orchids and exotic beasts.

With the Quanzhou judge’s complicity, some villages lost nearly all their men to tiger and wolf hunts.

The Li family was among the first to join the new dynasty, helping the late emperor win over noble families and strongly supporting Shen Jingming’s ascension. As the late emperor’s reign was short, the imperial tomb wasn’t chosen. Shen Jingming handled it after his coronation.

After months of court discussions, he selected the tomb’s mountain range, set the late emperor’s title, and tasked Li Yanlin with building it, allowing him to establish procurement offices in Sichuan and Quanzhou for rare wood and stone, transported via the dynasty’s canals.

When Shen Jinglan received this bl00d letter, she secretly sent guards to investigate, then passed it to the Censorate. The Censorate, with other officials, openly impeached Li Yanlin in court for abusing power and harming the people.

At first, Shen Jinglan thought it was just the Li family’s greed, needing only to cut their reach. But after Shen Jingming’s court outrage, impeachment memorials flooded in, yet no response came from Mingde Hall’s emperor.

Belatedly, Shen Jinglan recalled something. When the Shen family guarded the Yan border, she and her eldest brother excelled in martial prowess. Her second brother, Shen Jingming, loved reading while they trained, his essays the best among the siblings.

Born in the north, he longed for Jiangnan’s gentle waters. When Prince Yan became emperor and enfeoffed them, Shen Hui, injured, returned to Yanbei, while Shen Jingming’s fief was in prosperous Jiangnan.

She suddenly wondered, was Li Yanlin the only one who loved the Wanshi Garden?

Before she could find an answer, news of Da Zhi’s southern invasion reached the court, overshadowing the Li Yanlin case. Da Zhi’s cavalry plundered cities, massacred civilians, and urgent reports arrived, some carrying the familiar scent of Yan’s wolf-smoke beacons.

Then she was ordered to lead troops, losing her most crushing battle in her familiar homeland.

Even her clumsy first command with those village ruffians wasn’t this bad.

Looking again at the bl00d-written cloth, with countless unnamed red fingerprints, Shen Jinglan vaguely heard her eldest brother laughing beside her in their youth:

“Jinglan, heard you lost to your second brother by half a piece in chess today? Tsk, he must’ve gone easy. Last time, he crushed me, taking half my board with one trap. His schemes are endless; it’s normal we lose.”

“Don’t feel bad. He can be a king but not a general. We’re on different paths. Let him top the exams, enter the emperor’s hall, and live his scholar’s dream.”

Only today did Shen Jinglan understand her brother’s words—

Shen Jingming could be a king but not a general.

She thought the Li Yanlin case was about weighing his usefulness, but Shen Jingming saw… factionalism.

He saw her spear too sharp, aimed at his throne. If she succeeded, it would be a devastating collapse.

–

Shen Jinglan quietly added water, ground ink, wrote letters, and let them dry.

She spread paper, wrote line after line, folded them into envelopes, leaving no trace on the covers.

Her little princess, failing to solve the nine-linked ring after a few seconds, went to the window to look outside, scanning the spears, hooks, axes, and halberds, then turning back to the beauty in dim light. It was hard to connect those heavy weapons to such a delicate, frail Dikun.

Later, Student Ye stopped pretending, openly staring at the indoor scenery from the window, her gaze so intense the letter-writer couldn’t ignore it. Raising a brow, Shen Jinglan turned to her.

The overly bold Ye Fuguang: “…!”

Scrambling, she said, “Prince, are you writing letters? Need me to send them?”

With no maids to serve snacks or tea in the Yaoguang Pavilion, the money-driven student took the initiative.

Shen Jinglan’s eyes held a hint of amusement.

“No need,” she said. “You can’t send them.”

When Shen Jingming came, he didn’t mention the guards, implying he allowed spies to stay in the mansion. With so many eyes watching, even the slop bucket might be searched. These letters could never reach their intended recipients.

Shen Jinglan wrote them for future use and to keep herself busy now.

Ye Fuguang touched her nose, searching for another topic, but Shen Jinglan saw her unease and asked, “Want to go out?”

She glanced at the courtyard, shaking her head.

Shen Jinglan added, “I mean, outside the mansion.”

Student Ye’s eyes lit up instantly.

She no longer looked like a deer but a puppy caged at home, eyes full of longing for the outside world.

Shen Jinglan put away the letters, casually asking, “Where do you want to go?”

Ye Fuguang’s first thought was Taiqing Tower, but before speaking, her bright eyes dimmed slightly. Tentatively, she asked, “Can I go anywhere?”

Shen Jinglan understood, nodding. “Anywhere, even to visit family in prison.”

Ye Fuguang: Awesome!

She’d go to Taiqing Tower first, bringing food to improve Ye Yuge’s prison meals! And ask what she did to offend the petty, vengeful male lead.

Shen Jinglan thought briefly, wrote a note, and handed it to her little princess. “Give this to Yu Qing, have her deliver it to the Minister of Justice’s residence. We’ll go out tomorrow.”

Ye Fuguang ran to take it, joyfully passing the message to Yu Qing outside.

…

After confirming she could go out tomorrow and even visit Ye Yuge, Ye Fuguang grew more attentive. When Shen Jinglan bathed, she peeked from behind the silver screen, asking:

“Prince, need me to serve you?”

Like washing hair, drying it, or handing a towel—she was great at those!

Behind the translucent screen with ink embroidery, Shen Jinglan asked casually, “So eager, Princess?”

…Huh?

Ye Fuguang blinked, slowly recalling her plan to offer herself—or rather, her hands—tonight. Instantly nervous, she turned into a tomato spirit, retreating from the screen. Only the steam from the bath drifted over as she lowered her head, muttering, “The pool’s too hot… it’s bad for your health.”

Especially soaking in hot water with a racing heart—she could faint.

Though only a side consort, she acted like a proper wife in stories, solemnly advising her lord not to indulge in unfit settings, as passion harms the body.

Shen Jinglan, amused, laughed, touched her forehead, feeling an inexplicable fatigue since waking, with faint pain when recalling the past.

She didn’t explain, following her earlier teasing. “Come in.”

Ye Fuguang: “!”

She knew it!

Read a thousand days, use it in one!

Those steamy stories would force her to act, and in another steamy story’s setting!

Heart pounding, Ye Fuguang looked at the wet stone steps, eyes afraid to wander, memories of foreplay and flirtation flooding back.

–

The timid quail rounding the screen was, as Shen Jinglan expected, adorable.

She couldn’t resist touching the quail’s chubby cheek.

That gesture gave Ye Fuguang enough hint. Blushing and trembling, she followed her memories to undo Shen Jinglan’s robe. Having lived in Prince Qi’s mansion, struggling daily with Jixiang and Ruyi’s varied clothes, she wasn’t clueless facing Shen Jinglan’s regal robe.

While untying it, she couldn’t help muttering, “Prince, you just woke. Bathing like this… really harms your health.”

Noticing Shen Jinglan’s leniency despite her sternness, Ye Fuguang dared to voice concern repeatedly, fearing another mishap would put her little head at risk again.

The prince in vibrant robes didn’t seem to care for her advice.

Ye Fuguang only heard her low laugh, as if amused again.

As she undid the outer robe, its python embroidery brushed her feet. Ye Fuguang wiggled her toes, her fingers touching Shen Jinglan’s inner collar when she was suddenly pulled into an embrace. Camellia scent overwhelmed her, chaotic like blooming flowers pressing close—treatment she hadn’t felt earlier.

Shen Jinglan’s headache worsened, a restless heat from sleep surging, making her seek the cooling chill, especially that harsh winter snow.

But the little snowflake in her arms didn’t know, stiffening reflexively, then tentatively hugging her waist, cautiously saying:

“…Wife?”

Starting with a new title to set the mood—those books did it like this, right?

In this story with Qianyuan and Dikun settings, men call husbands, women… wife, right?

Ye Fuguang ignored that she was the Qianyuan. Her soft “wife” made Shen Jinglan, eyes closed, catch her breath. Her sharp phoenix eyes reopened, voice lower:

“What did you call me?”