After Being Marked by the Eldest Princess, I Got Pregnant with Her Child [Transmigration into a Novel] - Chapter 8

The Library.

Song Shujiu, dressed in white official robes, was organizing the ancient texts. Having assumed her position a week ago, she found herself alone in the library aside from a few menial workers.

She had already familiarized herself with most of the duties. The scriptures here weren’t too different from the classical texts she had studied before, so handling them wasn’t difficult.

As she gazed at the plain blue covers with black lettering, a wave of dizziness washed over her. She had been on duty since early morning, exerting herself physically, no wonder she felt exhausted.

Looking around at the shelves packed with books, she couldn’t help but think wasn’t this practically a sinecure?

Yan Chen had instructed her to categorize the books but hadn’t specified a deadline. Didn’t that mean she could take breaks whenever she grew tired?

With that in mind, Song Shujiu, quite experienced in such matters set down her work, stretched leisurely, and stepped outside.

The grand princess’s estate was vast. Even after several days, she hadn’t fully explored it.

Rounding an artificial hill, she noticed maids stationed at intervals ahead. Her gaze wandered before settling on a narrow path to the left serene and winding, its end obscured. Strangely, no one stood guard there.

This secluded spot was unusually hidden. Who would have thought Yan Chen’s estate had such a place?

Narrowing her eyes, Song Shujiu found her feet already moving forward.

The Shadow Tribunal.

A sliver of light filtered through the narrow windows high on the walls, barely penetrating the abyssal darkness of the chamber before being swallowed by the torchlight, leaving no trace behind.

Damp. Oppressive.

This place was devoid of daylight, the air thick and stifling.

In one of the cells, a woman was bound tightly to a torture rack, her hair disheveled, clothes torn to shreds by lashes. Bl00d dripped steadily from her wounds, the metallic stench permeating the dim room.

Shi Qi brought down the whip without mercy. “Talk, or don’t.”

The woman, pale-faced, lifted her head with difficulty and spat out a scoff. “Go to hell.”

Crack!

The whip sliced through the air, followed by a piercing scream. Yet, even then, she uttered no plea for mercy.

Seated on a chair at the front, Yan Chen reclined lazily in her crimson gauze robes, legs crossed. The indifference in her eyes was colder than the gloom of the chamber.

She picked up a dagger from the side, unsheathed it, and watched the blade glint under the flickering torchlight. Twirling it idly, her expression relaxed, a faint smile playing on her lips.

Spies from Li Kingdom, truly stubborn.

“Enough.”

At her unhurried command, Shi Qi’s raised arm froze mid-air.

“Your Highness, she’s on the verge of breaking.”

Why not press the advantage and extract the information now?

Yan Chen approached. “She’s a deathsworn.”

A deathsworn would never betray their master.

The dagger’s tip pressed against the woman’s cheek as Yan Chen smiled. “I know you’d rather die than reveal your comrades’ hideouts.”

Planting spies right under her nose these were the same people responsible for her injury last time. The Li Kingdom’s schemes were vile, aiming to eliminate her and throw Zhao into chaos.

Yan Yue’s reign was still unstable. If anything happened to her, Zhao would face turmoil within and threats without, an outcome Li Kingdom would relish.

The woman looked up, momentarily stunned upon seeing Yan Chen’s face. Then, she laughed and uttered something irrelevant.

“Princess of Zhao, you truly live up to the rumors peerless beauty, radiant as the sun.”

“But since you already know, why waste time interrogating me?”

The woman wore an arrogant expression. As a death warrior, meeting danger meant suicide was her fate. Trying to exchange secrets for temporary safety would only lead to eventual reckoning upon return.

This was her destiny.

“I know how to negotiate with people like you,” she said coldly.

Yan Chen examined the dagger’s edge, blowing on it carelessly before clicking her tongue twice. “Do death warriors even have emotions?”

A mocking glint flashed in the woman’s eyes. “Developing bonds with partners is the greatest taboo for our kind.”

Indeed, the captive woman paused, her breath hitching as her bound hands subtly clenched into fists.

“Just tell me what I want to know, and I might spare her life,” Yan Chen offered.

Complex emotions swirled in the woman’s eyes as she weighed her options. Yan Chen remained patient once she found someone’s weakness, she could exploit it endlessly. This woman might not value her own life, but she clearly cared for another’s.

“Weren’t you captured that day precisely to cover her escape?” Yan Chen pressed.

The woman’s earlier arrogance faded as these words struck home. After a long silence, she lifted her head. “I need to see her first to confirm she’s safe.”

Otherwise she would say nothing.

Yan Chen twirled the dagger, her voice smooth as water. “You should recognize this.” It was the weapon that never left her companion’s side.

The woman murmured indistinctly, rare tears glimmering in her eyes.

“Her injuries are severe,” Yan Chen continued. “Without treatment, she’ll likely be permanently disabled.” For martial artists, disability was worse than death.

The captive’s jaw clenched and unclenched repeatedly.

Finally, she whispered something to Yan Chen.

Stepping back, Yan Chen moved toward the torture devices where an exceptional sword lay horizontally. She drew it slowly the blade gleamed magnificently, its exquisite craftsmanship creating dazzling arcs of light.

The door burst open.

In that lightning moment, the sword tip moved like a shooting star, its fluid motion carrying deadly intent. Like a thousand blades descending at once, brilliant steel flashed as bl00d sprayed violently.

Song Shujiu’s vision turned red. Her feet seemed rooted in place with leaden weight. Covering her mouth in shock, she stared at the sudden carnage unfolding before her.

Yan Chen lowered her sword, bl00d dripping onto the marble floor. Raising her head, her narrow eyes swept over Song Shujiu with icy detachment, the undisguised killing intent radiating from her imperious stance.

Her entire demeanor exuded innate composure that bone-deep calm and natural authority. Without even glancing at the fallen head, she said deliberately, “I forgot to mention, she’s already gone.”

The captive had been tougher than expected, slitting her own throat immediately upon capture, leaving no opportunity for threats. Yet Yan Chen had gambled on their bond and won this round.

Now, however, she faced a more troublesome situation than disposing of a prisoner. Several paces away, wide almond eyes trembled with horror. Clearly, this witness had never seen such brutality.

Yan Chen sighed inwardly, dragging her sword toward Song Shujiu.

The metallic stench of bl00d filled Song Shujiu’s nostrils. Nausea overwhelmed her as dizziness clouded her mind. Watching Yan Chen approach, the trailing crimson gown blurred into overlapping images that graceful figure moving with lethal poise. When Yan Chen came within half a zhang, Song Shujiu’s legs gave way, and she collapsed forward.

Yan Chen reacted swiftly, catching her with one arm around her waist and pulling her close against his chest. Holding her soft form, their hearts pressed together, a flicker of fire flashed through his calm eyes as he tossed his sword aside and carried her away.

At the doorway, he threw a command over his shoulder: “Handle it properly.”

Seventeen bowed deeply. “Understood.”

It was unprecedented, someone trespassing into the Shadow Court yet escaping punishment, even receiving royal treatment. Scholar Song truly was different.

Seventeen clicked her tongue discreetly before turning to the lifeless body drained of bl00d. People from the Kingdom of Li would always remain their sworn enemies.

She stepped forward, untied the ropes, and bundled the corpse into a hemp sack.

Inside the bedchamber.

Song Shujiu opened her eyes to find herself laid upon plush bedding. The metallic scent of bl00d in her nose had been replaced by the deep fragrance of poppies.

The golden hairpins atop Yan Chen’s head swayed slightly. Her mouth felt parched this being her first time witnessing an execution firsthand, her heart understandably couldn’t handle it well.

Yan Chen raised his hand, pressing something cool to her lips. Song Shujiu frowned weakly. “What is this?”

“I had them fetch ice.”

The Ice Bureau had just delivered a fresh batch yesterday. Beads of sweat formed on Song Shujiu’s forehead, her lips so dry they nearly cracked. The shock had truly shaken her.

Yan Chen dipped a silk handkerchief in water, wrapping it around an ice cube. As it melted slightly, he gently dabbed at her lips. The cooling sensation only fanned the flames within her the suppressed desires of recent days resurfacing with a vengeance. The icy stimulation made the hidden fire burn fiercer instead of subsiding.

Gazing at Yan Chen’s slender wrist, Song Shujiu suddenly grasped it. Through the thin gauze sleeve, she realized this seemingly tall figure was actually quite slender so much so that her delicate wrist could be encircled by a single hand.

Caught off guard by the sudden grip, surprise flashed in Yan Chen’s eyes before noticing Song Shujiu’s flushed face.

Had the shock made her ill?

His first thought, he reached to feel her forehead cool to the touch, which eased his mind slightly.

Yet her face burned crimson like boiled shrimp. Realizing something, Yan Chen brushed aside the hair behind her left ear, revealing the heart-shaped birthmark an inch below. Sure enough, the scent of wisteria suddenly burst forth from her glands.

More lingering and intoxicating than the finest incense, the fragrance coiled endlessly. Yan Chen rubbed the flushed mark between thumb and forefinger, drawing a soft moan from Song Shujiu as she tilted her head away.

Amused, Yan Chen chuckled lightly. “Now you feel uncomfortable?”

Her first cycle hadn’t ended long ago. Narrowing his eyes, Yan Chen realized this little one’s dangerous period hadn’t completely passed. Being her first time, coupled with being such an exquisite top-tier Kuniang who couldn’t control herself or conceal it properly, had inadvertently prolonged this sensitive phase. Pitifully, the fool remained completely unaware.

The wisteria’s delicate fragrance carried subtle sweetness, making Yan Chen’s throat tighten with thirst. This body held inexplicable allure high compatibility came at a price, making her his natural nemesis.

Her lips, moistened by the ice, looked tender and soft. Setting aside the handkerchief, his palm remained cool exactly what the dazed Song Shujiu instinctively sought, nuzzling toward his hand.

“Don’t go!”

Yan Chen froze. The girl’s drowsy murmur brushed his ear like gentle rain, flowing leisurely yet sending shivers down his spine.

He offered his hand again, and after nuzzling against it contentedly, Song Shujiu finally settled peacefully.

Her arm was pulled as someone turned to embrace her. Song Shujiu seemed to be holding a treasure as she suddenly parted her lips and took the pressed hand into her mouth. Almost simultaneously, Yan Chen staggered back a step, warmth gathering at her fingertips, an entirely novel sensation. With her eyes closed amidst the surging wisteria blossoms, Song Shujiu suddenly laughed.

Yan Chen steadied herself, relieved that the other woman wasn’t fully conscious. She looked down to see the girl’s delicate features, a hint of coyness in her expression, clinging to her as if she were everything.

She bent down and pressed a gentle kiss to the spot behind her left ear where pheromones were released.

With her comfort, the girl visibly relaxed, curling contentedly into the crook of her arm. Yan Chen gripped her waist and carried her to a safe spot, propping her up with a high pillow.

Song Shujiu drifted through a sea of flowers, wave after wave of fragrance drowning her in its rise and fall. The scent of poppies filled the air, saturating everything around her until it all became Yan Chen’s unique aura. The burning heat within her body gradually melted away, replaced by the cool, almost icy touch of Yan Chen’s hands, bringing her endless comfort.

By the time she woke, the sky had darkened completely.

Song Shujiu rubbed her head and called out, “Xiao Tao?”

Xiao Tao entered the room, eyes fixed on the floor.

Something felt off.

“What’s wrong? Did someone bully you?”

Xiao Tao glanced at her before lowering her gaze again.

“It’s not me who was bullied, it’s you, miss.”

“What?”

Seeing that her mistress seemed to remember nothing, Xiao Tao stomped her foot in frustration. “I saw Her Highness the Eldest Princess leaving your room earlier.”

Yan Chen.

Only then did Song Shujiu recall, she had indeed seen Yan Chen not long ago.

Ah, she had seen her kill someone.

“Miss, your cries were rather loud.”

Xiao Tao’s face flushed red.

Song Shujiu felt as if she had been struck by lightning, her mind suddenly crystal clear. She was dead.

“All that weeping and wailing, like a pig being slaughtered. You’re a noble lady of the capital, where’s your dignity and grace?”

Xiao Tao sighed.

Cold sweat broke out on Song Shujiu’s back. A pig being slaughtered?

So this silly girl still had no idea what had actually happened between her and Yan Chen.

Good.

“Ah, I was just playing a few rounds of chess with Her Highness. Lost a couple of games.”

Xiao Tao nodded in understanding. So that was it, no wonder she had been so upset.

“So you’re just a sore loser, miss.”

Song Shujiu nearly choked, clenching her fists in frustration. “This was just a momentary setback. Next time, I’ll definitely strike back.”