Reborn and Reunited with My Resentful Husband - Chapter 1

“Qi Ranran, you’re such a nuisance.”

On the tenth day of the tenth month of the sixteenth year of Zhensheng’s reign, the night was deep and obscure, without wind or moonlight.

Qi Ranran had not eaten for three full days. Each morning, the eunuch guarding her would force-feed her a bowl of ginseng soup, both to sustain her spirit and to allow for continuous rounds of interrogation.

Today, the one interrogating her was Cheng Shouzhen, the chief eunuch of Empress Zheng’s palace. Qi Ranran lifted her eyelids slightly, listening as he shrilled in a sharp, acerbic voice:

“Princess Shaoyang, do you still think you’re a lofty and noble golden branch? Wake up! The sky above Shangjing City has long since changed.”

“Even if His Majesty were to awaken from his illness, your life or death ultimately rests in the hands of Empress Zheng.”

“If you were wise, you’d heed my advice and reveal the burial site of the gold as soon as possible. That way, you’d suffer less, and I could complete my task sooner.”

Five days earlier, the current Emperor Zhensheng had suddenly fallen into a coma. Empress Zheng and her brother seized the opportunity to take control of the court, tightening their grip on the city gates while ruthlessly purging the imperial relatives who opposed them. As the eldest daughter of the late empress, Qi Ranran was imprisoned in her own princess manor on the first day of the coup.

The reason for her imprisonment was simple: Empress Yu Yao, Qi Ranran’s mother, came from a merchant family with wealth rivaling the emperor’s. Though she passed away early, she left her only daughter a “lifesaving treasure”—100,000 taels of gold ingots.

Now, with General Zheng’s troops besieging the city and funds needed for provisions and salaries, Empress Zheng urgently sought wealth and naturally turned her attention to Qi Ranran.

Seeing her remain silent, Cheng Shouzhen raised his whip and struck her frail back.

“You see? It’s only out of my kindness that I refrain from using harsh methods. If someone crueler takes my place tomorrow, that delicate skin of yours…”

He paused meaningfully, though the force of his strike starkly contradicted his words.

Qi Ranran grunted in pain. She had been tortured since the first day of her imprisonment, and after days of repeated injuries, her back was covered in wounds.

The latest lash had torn through a half-healed scar, the rough rope viciously ripping apart the barely connected flesh. The excruciating pain nearly brought tears to her eyes.

Though her eyes instinctively welled up, she quickly suppressed the tears. Blinking slowly, she raised her head after a moment and said in a faint, almost ethereal tone:

“Haven’t I already told you? I revealed the burial site of the 100,000 taels of gold on the very first day.”

Princess Shaoyang had indeed disclosed a location after her first round of torture. Though the place sounded both remote and oddly familiar, the detailed directions made it seem convincing.

Empress Zheng immediately dispatched men with a hand-drawn map to the site. Five imperial guards dug tirelessly through the night, only to unearth the ancestral tomb of one of Empress Zheng’s distant relatives.

The memory almost made Qi Ranran laugh, and she did—a faint, mischievous smile curling her lips. Her grape-like eyes curved slightly, delicate dimples indented her cheeks, and even in her disheveled state, a glint of mockery and defiance shimmered beneath the surface like a hidden spring under ice.

“Cheng Shouzhen, have you also forgotten where your father is buried?”

“Oh, wait, that’s not right. You’ve betrayed your ancestors to become a eunuch. Your father was probably so enraged that his grave exploded, and he pushed open his coffin lid and ran away in the middle of the night.”

“You…!”

Cheng Shouzhen, caught off guard by her jab at his sore spot, raised his whip to strike her face.

“It seems you prefer punishment over courtesy!”

The two young eunuchs beside him rushed over to stop him. The taller one caught the tip of the whip, while the shorter one behind him pressed down on Cheng Shouzhen’s arm, incessantly trying to calm him.

“Please calm your anger, sir! Her Majesty the Empress has given strict orders—no matter what, the princess must be kept alive. We can rough her up in private, but we can’t let anyone notice anything amiss on the surface.”

He stole a glance at Qi Ranran’s deathly pale face, paused for a moment, and then lowered his voice to remind him:

“Besides, she still holds another status. If the one from the Celestial Master Manor were to find out how we’re treating her today…”

Cheng Shouzhen’s body stiffened instantly, his previously soaring arrogance completely extinguished by the three words “Celestial Master Manor.”

Logically, as Empress Zheng’s trusted confidant who had been ordered to take command of the Divine Strategy Army during the coup, with both power and position in his grasp, he shouldn’t have shown such obvious and profound fear.

Yet everyone presents knew all too well that even if the Zheng faction managed to seize the throne this time, the Celestial Master Manor was absolutely not an entity they could afford to offend lightly—let alone in the current unstable political climate.

The Great Yong Dynasty had always revered Daoist arts above all else. It was said that the founding Emperor Zhenyuan had received the assistance of a Daoist cultivator, which enabled him to establish his empire amidst the fierce contention among warlords.

Later, Emperor Yuan, grateful for his contributions to the founding of the dynasty, specifically established the hereditary position of “Celestial Master”—equal in rank to the Three Excellencies—based on his origins. He bestowed the “Yu Family Celestial Master Manor,” ensuring his descendants would forever bask in imperial favor.

In the eleventh year of Zhensheng, Qi Ranran was sent to marry by imperial decree, wedding none other than the current head of the Celestial Master Manor—Yu Changfeng.

This youngest head in the Yu family’s history was truly a heaven-sent prodigy. At fourteen, when the Great Yong border was invaded by foreign tribes, just after a devastating flood had emptied the national treasury and the army was suffering repeated defeats, Yu Changfeng calculated the weather patterns. Using precisely timed thunderstorms and strategic maneuvers, he managed to delay the enemy forces and, against overwhelming odds, successfully protected tens of thousands of civilians across thirteen border cities.

Later, donning armor himself, he personally led two thousand elite cavalry to the front lines. Holding his ground like a lone warrior guarding a pass, he drove back the invaders and turned certain defeat into victory, becoming the first Celestial Master heir in the Yu family to achieve illustrious military merits. Under his leadership, the Celestial Master Manor, which had been declining over the past century, returned to its peak of unparalleled prestige and influence.

By all reasoning, being married to this Celestial Master who ranked first in both appearance and authority, Qi Ranran shouldn’t have fallen to such a state—even if the entire capital were in chaos.

Unfortunately, everyone in the Great Yong court knew—Princess Shaoyang and Celestial Master Yu were truly a resentful couple who couldn’t stand the sight of each other.

…

Over there, Cheng Shouzhen had already put away his whip, pretending to be calm as he sneered:

“What is there to fear? If the Celestial Master truly intended to save her, he would have come long ago. Their divorce caused such a scandal throughout the city—the Celestial Master Manor hasn’t been so publicly humiliated in a hundred years. Why would they bother with her now?”

As he spoke, his actions were quite honest—not only did he retreat to his original position with a sullen expression, but he also waved his hand, signaling the attendant nearby to give Qi Ranran some water to drink.

“Besides, Her Majesty the Empress acted swiftly to seal the news. Even the Celestial Master’s residence might not—”

Before he could finish, a young maid from the outer courtyard suddenly rushed in anxiously.

“Sir, Princess Shaoyang’s… her husband has arrived!”

The moment the words fell, the expressions of those present subtly shifted for an instant.

Cheng Shouzhen reacted the fastest. With a flick of his wrist, he concealed the whip in his sleeve. Though his legs trembled beneath his wide robe, his face managed to quickly conjure a fawning smile.

Yet, at the same time, Qi Ranran couldn’t muster a smile. The maid who had just announced the news was someone she had bought only three months prior—a girl born with an incomplete mind, which was precisely why she had been kept in the princess’s residence under such circumstances.

The ‘husband’ she referred to could never be Yu Changfeng. The only person who visited the princess’s residence frequently enough to earn such a title in her subconscious was…

A clamor of commotion gradually rose, and indistinct figures could be seen approaching the doorway.

Before long, a man in luxurious robes and embroidered boots stepped unhurriedly over the threshold, leading the way. Behind him, a hundred soldiers clad in black armor marched fiercely, shattering the moonlight with their imposing presence, their murderous intent palpable as they advanced.

Qi Ranran’s heart sank abruptly.

After Yu Yao’s sudden passing, Qi Ranran’s only remaining maternal relatives were her aunt and cousin. On the day of the military coup, her own movements were restricted, so she had entrusted a reliable person to secretly mobilize the Black Feather Army and escort the last two members of the Yu family out of the city.

Yet now, the Black Feather Army—who should have been outside the city with the Yu family—stood in perfect formation before her, their expressions indifferent, their drawn sabers gleaming with fresh bl00d that had yet to dry.

And at the very center of the Black Feather Army stood Chu Chengyan—the man she had entrusted with the task, the one with whom she had been closely associated, the one who had repeatedly sparked rumors of her ‘marital discord,’ and ultimately facilitated her divorce. His hands, usually occupied with grinding ink and holding brushes for her, were now stained with bl00d, the knuckles covered in scratches. His slender, pale fingers were slightly spread, his fingertips lifting to reveal two intertwined hair ribbons—one gold, the other green.

Qi Ranran recognized those ribbons all too well. The gold one was the token for mobilizing the Black Feather Army, while the green one…

In an instant, she understood everything. “Chu Chengyan, where have you taken my cousin?”

Chu Chengyan ignored her question. “Ranran, Her Majesty the Empress wishes to see you.”

He glanced at the lacerations on Qi Ranran’s back, his distant, tranquil gaze betraying no emotion. Meeting Cheng Shouzhen’s somewhat guilty look, he signaled for a servant to bring a clean set of clothes.

“Change your clothes. Come with me to the palace.”

Qi Ranran stared at him fiercely, repeating her words. “Chu Chengyan, where is my cousin?”

Chu Chengyan met her furious, hate-filled gaze and paused briefly before answering.

“Half an hour ago, she and Aunt Yu were taken into the palace for questioning. During the interrogation, they attempted to assassinate Her Majesty the Empress but failed. General Zheng executed them on the spot.”

A gentle sigh laced his drawn-out tone as he leaned closer, his fingers brushing carelessly through her bangs. Every movement carried an almost intimate coaxing.

“Ranran, the situation is settled. Coming with me to the palace is your best option now. Be good and change your clothes. Don’t make a scene.”

As if to corroborate his words, the deputy commander of the Black Feather Army tossed over a cloth bundle from the side. The violet fabric fell open, revealing two severed heads bearing a striking seventy percent resemblance to Qi Ranran’s face.

The heads were carelessly tossed to the ground, rolling along the low terrain until they reached the feet of the crowd. Flesh fragments from the violent decapitation inevitably stained Chu Chengyan’s dark golden boots. The minister instinctively frowned and, without hesitation, lifted his robe to kick them lightly away…

Thud-thud-thud—

The bl00d inside the skulls hadn’t yet coagulated, and the continuously oozing crimson soon painted a long, winding trail across the ground. Qi Ranran’s dazed gaze followed the trail into the distance, her heart suddenly hollowed out as if something she had persistently clung to had abruptly and completely shattered.

Born into imperial nobility, she appeared supremely privileged yet had only known true stability before her mother’s passing.

At fourteen, when Yu Yao died, her final words urged Qi Ranran to survive. She remembered, hiding away to weep for a day and night before drying her tears and beginning to desperately survive under the predatory gazes of all sides.

At sixteen, married off to Yu Changfeng as a pawn in power struggles, her every thought and action became subject not only to imperial scrutiny but also to the silent constraints of the Celestial Master’s residence. After several nights of breakdown, she pivoted, continuing to build her own influence.

Five days ago, chaos erupted unexpectedly. Caught off guard, she could only rely on obstinate confusion to mislead observers while exhausting all means to smuggle her aunt and cousin out of the city. Even in her wretched state, the hope of future reunion sustained her.

—But now, all that was gone.

Qi Ranran blinked, then suddenly laughed.

Perhaps convinced she no longer posed any threat, Chu Chengyan presented Empress Zheng’s decree. Cheng Shouzhen then untied her bonds and respectfully offered her garments with both hands.

“Princess Shaoyang, if you please.”

But Qi Ranran didn’t accept the clothes, slowly rubbing her stiff, bruised wrists with an eerily calm expression.

Moving behind a half-person-tall vase, she stood on tiptoe, carefully scanning the entire room. After a long pause, she abruptly asked an seemingly unrelated question:

“Everyone should be here now, right?”

Cheng Shouzhen looked confused, “What do you mean—”

BOOM!

Almost overlapping with his words, the flat ground suddenly erupted. A slender fuse behind the vase ignited rapidly, and moments later, several batches of black powder hidden underground engulfed the entire estate like wildfire.

Cheng Shouzhen, standing closest to the explosives, had just screamed in terror before being instantly blown into scattered flesh fragments.

Successive agonized wails immediately rose from the Black Feather Army soldiers. Qi Ranran herself felt excruciating pain but could only emit weak, choked whimpers like a small animal with its throat constricted, her vocal cords scorched.

Curled on the ground, she watched raging flames voraciously consume every person present. Her eyes burned crimson with the heat, yet her mind clearly surfaced many reflections…

Regretting her miscalculated arrangements, regretting her misjudgment of character, regretting not having buried more black powder underground to blow those wretched court figures to smithereens along with the rest.

Her thoughts shifted, and she began to worry that the Yu family would have no descendants from now on. In the future, during festivals and holidays, she might not even receive any fresh fruits as offerings in the afterlife.

If she had known it would come to this, she shouldn’t have broken ties with Yu Changfeng so bitterly and divorced him. After all, though he was cold and indifferent, given their “old acquaintance,” he probably wouldn’t have begrudged her a few baskets of sacrificial offerings.

Her thoughts drifted again. Since this life had ended so abruptly, could she learn from this lesson in her next life and prepare in advance by burning some incense and paper money for herself?

Then she could go all out, burning enough to become the wealthiest soul in Fengdu, so that in the afterlife she could swagger down every ghostly path without a care!

One random thought after another flitted through her mind. Qi Ranran thought and thought and eventually laughed.

But as she laughed, she finally broke down and wept.

…

The fire grew fiercer, the excruciating pain of being torn apart gnawing at her entire body.

Amid the flickering crimson flames, she vaguely caught a whiff of a serene, tranquil, and peculiar fragrance. The scent guided her upward, drifting weightlessly until she landed in a completely unfamiliar room.

There, she saw the memorial tablets of herself and her aunt’s family, and also caught sight of the tall, silent figure standing before them.

It was Yu Changfeng.

He had actually set up a mourning hall for her, thoughtfully arranging an unusually large and long altar table. The table was laden with seasonal fruits and delicacies, and the pastries in the white porcelain plates were even still steaming faintly.

—Abundant, fresh, and all her favorites.

Qi Ranran felt reassured and drifted leisurely around the altar table. A cool breeze gradually rose, and before long, it blew a plump, round pear to the ground.

Thud!

The golden-yellow pear fell to the floor intact. Yu Changfeng, standing motionless in the silence, lowered his gaze indifferently. After a long moment, he finally moved.

He bent down, his lean fingers picking up the pear and examining it carefully. He frowned slightly, his thin lips parting as he murmured softly,

“Qi Ranran, you’re so troublesome.”

Qi Ranran: …?

“Hey—”

The Princess of Shaoyang, who had just thought him quite considerate, drifted indignantly behind him.

“You, this person…”

Yu Changfeng tucked the pear into his sleeve and picked a new one from the bamboo basket nearby, placing it on the altar. In his usual aloof tone, he continued:

“Isn’t this pear just a little bruised on the skin? Qi Ranran, are you really going to be so picky over such a tiny flaw?”

“Can’t you make do a little? What if we can’t replenish the fresh fruits in time later? Will you refuse to eat anything at all?”

“Where do you get all these fussy habits?”

…

The more he spoke, the more unusually deep and hoarse his voice became. Standing with his back to the light, his face was shrouded in shadow. This man, once the pride of heaven, now seemed inexplicably desolate and bleak.

Qi Ranran was stunned by his successive remarks. She wanted to retort, “I’m not that picky anymore,” but her throat felt choked with an inexplicable sorrow. After a long while, her eyes reddened, and for some reason, she suddenly felt a strong urge to hug him.

She stretched her hand forward with all her might, but the strange fragrance that had guided her there suddenly intensified. Her once weightless body instantly grew heavy and sluggish, and an endless darkness, like a turbulent abyss, dragged her down relentlessly…