Marrying the Crown Princess - Chapter 1

As night fell, the wind suddenly grew fierce, swirling through the An Ning Marquis Mansion and turning everything into chaos.  Dry leaves were scattered everywhere, and the air felt desolate and cold.

In Qinglan Courtyard, where the seventh young lady of the Marquis’ lived, the wind blew so hard. It snapped the dry branches from the old phoenix tree that had already shed all its leaves. The creaking sounds echoed in the night.

Su Qiuqiu stirred from her hazy slumber, shivering as the ghostly howl of the wind sent chills down her spine. Instinctively, she pulled the thin blanket tighter around herself, though it provided little warmth. As her eyes adjusted to the dim candlelight, she saw the intricate lacquered patterns on the carved wooden bed—odd depictions of flora rendered in a simple yet ancient style.

For a brief moment, confusion flickered in her eyes before it faded, giving way to clarity. She had woken up several times in the past few days, each time feeling like she was trapped in a dream. Her body was wracked with pain, her mind in turmoil. But tonight was different—things felt real. The dizziness had somewhat subsided, leaving her more aware than before.

As her mind cleared, the memories she had absorbed over the past days surfaced more clearly.

She remembered standing beneath the towering billboard of her longtime idol, fangirling over the goddess-like image. However, the massive advertisement, standing three to four meters high and more than ten meters wide, abruptly collapsed. The stunning beauty in the ad, with her dazzling fair skin and an estimated D-cup chest, suddenly collapsed upon her. She hadn’t even gotten the chance to savor the moment before she was knocked unconscious by the sheer impact.

She thought she had died, but when she woke again, she found herself in another world, inside someone else’s body.

The girl she had become was also named Su Qiuqiu, born in the nation of Da Chu as the seventh young lady of An Ning Marquis Mansion.

This original seventh young lady had led a tragic life. Her birth mother, Fourth Concubine, had once been favored, but a malicious scheme led to her premature labor. Weak and sickly ever since, Fourth Concubine soon fell out of favor, and her daughter became just as neglected. Lacking any social finesse, they were dismissed and disregarded, with Fourth Concubine being nothing more than a seamstress by birth. Without family support or social skills, the concubine and her daughter were treated as nobodies in the large household—less important even than high-ranking maids.

Of course, a prestigious household had its reputation to maintain. While they received the proper treatment on the outside, they were abused and neglected behind closed doors.

The Fourth Concubine was gentle by nature, and the seventh young lady grew up timid as well. She was often bullied, with no one to protect her. They lived quietly in a small courtyard, just trying to survive.

 Then she turned fifteen, the age at which girls in this world reached adulthood. That’s when her stepmother, Madam Wang, suddenly remembered her.

Madam Wang registered her in the family records, changing her status from illegitimate to legitimate. But it wasn’t out of kindness—it was a trap. She wanted to marry the seventh lady off to the heir of the Southern Prince (Prince of Zhen’nan) as a concubine.

The Prince of Zhen’nan title sounded grand, but in reality, his power was hollow. Worse, his heir was rumored to be a chronically ill man, barely clinging to life, suffering from impotence. Initially, the engagement was arranged for the fifth young lady (the legitimate daughter of Madam Wang), but she adamantly refused the match.

As Madam Wang’s legitimate daughter, the fifth young lady could never be sacrificed to such a fate. So, in search of an alternative, she turned her attention to the seventh young lady—someone who had never been officially betrothed and was barely seen in social circles. Since the original engagement was only verbally agreed upon, without specifying which daughter, they simply swapped her in. In this manner, both the Prince of Zhen’nan and  the An Ning Marquis Mansion could maintain their reputation  without sacrificing the favored child. No one cared what happened to a daughter born of a concubine.

The seventh young lady was devastated. She felt her world had crumbled so deeply that she attempted suicide by jumping into the lotus pond. Winter waters were mercilessly cold—freezing enough to kill, and she couldn’t swim.

After being rescued, she remained unconscious for days. By the time she finally succumbed, her soul had already departed, leaving her body as an empty shell—one now occupied by the Su Qiuqiu from another world.

These past few days had been a torment. She drifted between wakefulness and unconsciousness, suffering greatly from her weakened body. At first, she couldn’t believe the truth of her situation. But gradually, she had come to accept it.

Unlike her predecessor, Su Qiuqiu couldn’t fathom ending her life over such a thing. So what if she had to marry an impotent, sickly man? As the saying goes, “If he can’t rise, then the skies will always be clear.” In the ancient world, being a widow—especially in name only—was far is better than living under the control of a domineering husband. She could keep her distance, live her days peacefully with her maids, and avoid the headaches caused by men. Truly, a blessing in disguise.

Clearly, the backward mindset of ancient women had led to unnecessary tragedy, and now she was the one suffering the consequences of this foolishness.

Shaking off those thoughts, her mind wandered back to her last vision—the glorious sight of that soft, curvy chest crashing onto her. A cherished memory indeed. Just thinking about it made her feel more alive.

But right now, her body was unbearably cold. Her throat was parched and burning. Before, she had quickly slipped into unconsciousness, but now she could no longer endure the discomfort.

“Zi Rui…” she called out hoarsely, barely above a whisper. She tried to sit up but soon realized that her body was far too weak. Even the simple act of getting up is already very difficult for her.

Zi Rui was the seventh young lady’s personal maid, the most loyal one who had stayed by her side for years.

Yet as she called out, there was no response. Glancing around the room, she saw that no one was there. Perhaps her voice had been too faint to be heard.

Summoning her remaining strength, she called again. Still, silence.

Swallowing against the pain in her throat, she braced herself to get up. This body was beyond fragile—so delicate that it made her frustrated. By the time she managed to sit up, her forehead was damp with sweat. With the room’s chilly temperature, the dampness only made her colder. She had never felt this miserable in her life.

Leaning against the bedpost to catch her breath, she spotted a nearby rack holding an ornamental vase. Gathering her strength, she shoved it off in the stand.

With a loud crash, the vase shattered onto the ground.

The sound was loud enough to draw attention. Soon, hurried footsteps approached, and the door swung open.

A middle-aged woman entered; her presence was brisk and commanding. First, she adjusted the candlelight, then strode over to Su Qiuqiu’s bedside.

“Miss, what are you doing?! If you attempt suicide again, it will only bring suffering to your mother! ” Her expression shifted from relief to alarm. She was pleased that the young lady had finally woken up but was shocked at the scene of broken shards scattered across the floor. Her tone carried a hint of reproach.

Su Qiuqiu vaguely recognized the woman. She was one of her stepmother’s trusted servants—known as Madam Zhang. Somehow, she had ended up overseeing her care.

“Water…” Su Qiuqiu ignored her words, responding with a single request.

Madam Zhang swiftly ordered two young maids to attend to her needs. Soon, a warm cup of water was brought to her lips.

With the first sip, she felt a small measure of comfort.