Mistakenly Treated The Princess As A Concubine - Chapter 9

Wen Zhuojin had just stepped into the residence when she heard a loud crash—the sound of something shattering.

She hurried toward the direction of the main room.

“What’s going on?” Wen Zhuojin asked as she reached the doorway and saw Jin Rui retreating.

“Miss, that woman won’t let anyone get close. She’s smashing everything within reach and is now holding a piece of porcelain. She’s bleeding a lot…” Jin Rui explained, and Wen Zhuojin quickened her pace, practically running into the room.

The sharp scent of bl00d hit her immediately.

The woman, dressed only in her undergarments, with disheveled long hair and bare feet, crouched low, growling in a low tone at some imagined enemy in the air.

Broken porcelain littered the floor. No matter where she stepped, she would inevitably hurt herself.

Wen Zhuojin tossed aside what she was holding and strode forward. Without giving Yan Qinglan a chance to react, she grabbed her hand, pried her fingers open to remove the piece of porcelain she was clutching, and then lifted her into her arms.

The moment Wen Zhuojin touched her, Yan Qinglan began to struggle.

It was clear, however, that her resistance was much weaker than it had been the day before.

“Clean the room and bring the medical kit to the side room,” Wen Zhuojin instructed quickly, carrying Yan Qinglan toward the side room.

“Calm down. You’re safe now. Stop hurting yourself.”

“I know—you still want to live, don’t you?”

“Can you trust me?”

Wen Zhuojin spoke softly, her hand gently soothing Yan Qinglan’s back.

Yan Qinglan’s eyes, like black gemstones, were misted with tears. Her cheeks were streaked with them. Although Wen Zhuojin knew Yan Qinglan could no longer see, meeting those eyes still made her feel as though they were locked in a silent gaze.

In those eyes, Wen Zhuojin saw her fear, her unease, and her defiance.

She felt an intense urge to smooth away all of those emotions.

Wen Zhuojin decided against lighting any sedative incense and instead instructed Zirong, who had followed her in, to light a soothing, calming fragrance. Holding Yan Qinglan securely in her arms, she continued to speak in a gentle tone, stroking her back over and over again, trying to calm her down and earn a sliver of her trust.

After Zirong lit the calming incense, she looked at Wen Zhuojin with an expression of astonishment.

She already knew Wen Zhuojin was gentle, but she hadn’t expected this level of tenderness.

Their young lady treated even a stranger with such care—it was as if a celestial goddess had descended to the mortal world.

Zirong couldn’t help but glance at her a few more times before hurrying off to prepare the medical kit and hot water for Wen Zhuojin.

Yan Qinglan’s consciousness, after inhaling the sedative incense, plunged once more into chaos.

Her body remained unawakened, trapped in a cycle of endless nightmares.

One moment, she was sinking into a pitch-black swamp; the next, she was surrounded by a sea of blooming flowers. Familiar faces shifted from lively and warm in one breath to melting into bl00d and flesh, leaving only stark, white bones.

When her body did awaken, all she could see was darkness. Every sound around her transformed into an assault, a threat.

It was as if malevolent spirits whispered and howled by turns, with countless hands reaching to drag her deeper into an abyss.

In her disoriented state, Yan Qinglan could only flail blindly, driven by instinct. Despite the searing pain coursing through her body, she fought desperately to carve out a path of survival.

When Wen Zhuojin arrived, Yan Qinglan was still trapped in that chaotic hallucination.

It wasn’t until she was cradled in Wen Zhuojin’s arms, soothed by her gentle, repeated whispers, that Yan Qinglan began to regain a sliver of clarity.

It felt just like that time at the Fragrant Pavilion.

The girl’s voice, sweet like summer fruit, paired with the faint, serene fragrance emanating from her, seemed like a lifeline—a rope pulling her slowly, inch by inch, out of the depths of her darkness.

Finally, a glimmer of lucidity pierced through the haze in her mind. The ghostly wails faded, replaced by the sound of a human voice.

Her sense of smell caught the girl’s subtle fragrance, and through the fabric of her inner garment, her skin felt the warmth radiating from the girl’s body.

“Madam, I mean you no harm and will not offend you. I simply happened to pass by and save you.”

“Do you want to see your family again? If you behave, I will help you find them. Can you hear me? If you can, give me a sound.”

The girl’s gentle voice rang out once more.

As some clarity returned to Yan Qinglan’s mind, she remembered—yesterday, this girl with the pleasant voice had used incense on her, causing her to lose consciousness.

Now, her hands and feet were bound by the girl, leaving her unable to move. Her body was battered, aching all over.

Her mouth carried the bitter taste of medicine—clearly, she had been fed another dose.

Healing her wounds? Sending her to reunite with her family?

It sounded even more absurd than before. Did they think she would believe such an obvious setup?

“Mm.”

Yan Qinglan let out a soft hum.

It wasn’t as though she didn’t know how to feign compliance. If she hadn’t, she wouldn’t have escaped in the first place.

Now that her mind was clear, she stopped struggling. The other party pretended to show goodwill, so she would play along.

Perhaps it would give her another chance.

When Wen Zhuojin heard Yan Qinglan’s faint response, she sighed in relief, though her heart grew heavier.

As expected, she was thinking about her family.

Was her relationship with Chu Haoting really that strong?

The moment her family was mentioned, she became docile.

Wen Zhuojin slowly loosened her hold on Yan Qinglan. Just as she anticipated, Yan Qinglan no longer struggled.

However, her body was trembling, likely from the pain.

In her haste to restrain Yan Qinglan earlier, Wen Zhuojin hadn’t noticed how the bindings had twisted her undergarments. Now, as she released her, the disheveled clothing loosened as well.

The tie around her inner garment had come loose, the fabric on her shoulder slipping down, revealing her disheveled undergarment and a large expanse of skin from her neck to her chest. One side of her soft curves quivered in rhythm with her trembling breaths.

She was so slender, and yet some parts of her body were strikingly well-formed.

Wen Zhuojin’s heart skipped a beat, and she averted her gaze.

“Madam, you’ve injured yourself again, and some of your old wounds have reopened. I’ll rebandage them for you. Please bear with it,” Wen Zhuojin said softly.

She deliberately changed her form of address to “Madam.” Perhaps it was to remind herself—or perhaps it felt more respectful.

The woman before her lay still, as obedient as a tamed kitten. Or perhaps, she had truly begun to trust Wen Zhuojin.

This position only made her disheveled clothing worse.

Wen Zhuojin’s throat inexplicably went dry. She quickly averted her eyes and pulled the quilt up to cover Yan Qinglan, then fetched the medical kit to tend to her wounds.

Her hands were littered with fresh cuts, her feet embedded with shards of porcelain. The injuries that had been treated yesterday had reopened, and new ones had been added.

The once-pristine white-glazed porcelain had been shattered.

It was like piecing together broken porcelain; Wen Zhuojin worked with great care.

Even so, Yan Qinglan still winced in pain.

Her already teary eyes overflowed with fresh tears at every touch, her body trembling with each sensation.

Despite the agony, she made no sound, biting her lip to endure it. Her slender neck arched slightly, forming a delicate curve.

Wen Zhuojin’s gaze froze on Yan Qinglan’s face, her hands trembling slightly.

Something dark and twisted stirred in her mind—damp, murky, and unlike anything she’d ever felt before.

It went against everything she had once been.

She had already covered her properly with the quilt, so why were such thoughts surfacing in her mind?

The woman before her was injured, and, more importantly, she has a husband!

Reminding herself once again and taking several deep breaths to steady her thoughts, Wen Zhuojin resumed tending to Yan Qinglan’s injuries.

After carefully removing the shards of porcelain embedded in Yan Qinglan’s feet, Wen Zhuojin remembered the pliers she had purchased and called for Zirong to come in.

Among the maids, Zirong was the strongest—stronger, even, than most men.

“Madam, the iron shackle on your foot—I want to try removing it. It might hurt a lot, so please bear with it,” Wen Zhuojin said softly to Yan Qinglan.

Yan Qinglan’s body froze slightly.

This time, it seemed like they were being more sincere—going as far as to remove the iron shackles.

Back then, they had used chains to restrain her, to keep her from escaping.

Now, to show goodwill and earn her trust, were they truly planning to remove them?

“Zirong, do you see this? Turn it from this direction, and be careful not to touch her skin,” Wen Zhuojin instructed Zirong.

Wen Zhuojin steadied the iron shackle while Zirong, fully prepared, gripped the joint with the pliers. Together, they exerted force.

The shackle had already embedded itself deeply into the flesh. Despite their caution, the pain made Yan Qinglan tremble all over, letting out low groans from her lips.

Wen Zhuojin dared not look at Yan Qinglan. She and Zirong worked together in one decisive push, twisting the joint apart and prying the shackle open to free it from her ankle.

As the shackle came off, it tore at the flesh. The already damaged area became even more gruesome, with some places exposing bone.

After removing the first shackle, they had a bit more experience with the second. Under the combined effort of Wen Zhuojin and Zirong, it too was removed.

Both ankles were now a horrifying mess. The sight made Wen Zhuojin’s heart ache deeply.

Such injuries likely damaged her meridians. Even if the external wounds healed, Wen Zhuojin worried about whether they would affect her ability to walk.

She would need Zheng Qianqin to examine her further.

It was already astonishing that Yan Qinglan had managed to stand earlier—who knew how much pain she endured.

As Wen Zhuojin cleaned the bl00d from the wounds and applied a healing powder, Yan Qinglan was already sweating from the pain, her body curling up tightly.

When Wen Zhuojin was about to say something, she noticed Yan Qinglan’s hand clutching the fabric of her clothes, her curled-up body leaning toward her.

In that moment, Wen Zhuojin felt an unexpected sense of being “relied upon.”

Falling into the mire, with no hope in sight—perhaps her goodwill was Yan Qinglan’s only glimmer of hope.

Wen Zhuojin carefully gathered her into her arms, her hand gently stroking Yan Qinglan’s back.

Yan Qinglan, drenched in cold sweat from the pain, trembled as she was held once more by Wen Zhuojin. Though she felt a sense of discomfort, the other’s scent was pleasant, and her voice had a soothing quality that helped draw her attention away from the pain, even if only slightly.

Having already resolved to be temporarily compliant, Yan Qinglan made no further movements. She simply curled up in Wen Zhuojin’s embrace, suppressing the groans threatening to escape her lips, and let herself be surrounded by the warmth and scent of the other.

Wen Zhuojin felt the faint breaths brushing against her chest, the chilled, trembling body leaning closer. Her protective instincts surged again, growing stronger for the fragile person in her arms.

She was even more docile than the lion cat Wen Zhuojin raised.

Right now, Yan Qinglan could only rely on her.

How could Wen Zhuojin possibly abandon her?

Noticing that the person in her arms seemed to have eased slightly, Wen Zhuojin instructed Jinrui to prepare some medicinal decoction and a bowl of congee.

When the congee was brought in, Jinrui initially intended to feed it, but Wen Zhuojin took the bowl herself.

“You can only eat some congee for now. I’ll feed you a little. Be good, open your mouth…” Wen Zhuojin said softly.

The fragrance of rice congee wafted into Yan Qinglan’s nose, causing a twisting, gnawing sensation in her stomach. After days without food, she was so famished that she’d become numb to the hunger.

She wondered if the food had been laced with something.

But for now, since she’d decided to act obediently, she had to eat.

If the other truly intended to drug her, they could force-feed her anyway.

This thought flickered through Yan Qinglan’s mind as her pale lips moved slightly. Following Wen Zhuojin’s words, she obediently opened her lips.

Her bloodless lips parted, revealing fine white teeth and a small, pinkish tongue tip.

Wen Zhuojin involuntarily swallowed, feeling as though the sight of her opening her lips was like unwrapping a piece of candy. If she could just lick it once…

The thought hit her, and Wen Zhuojin nearly dropped the spoon in her hand.