The Prince Consort Is Also Pretending To Be Affectionate Today - Chapter 1
1: Transmigration
It was early spring, and the princess’s mansion was alive with blooming flowers and lush greenery. Servants bustled about, each attending to their duties.
In the backyard of the prince’s residence, the grand redwood lacquered doors stood wide open. Maids hurried in and out, their steps swift and purposeful. Basins of clean water were carried in, only to be carried out moments later, stained red with bl00d.
Two maids passing by the courtyard froze at the sight, their eyes wide with shock. They grabbed one of the maids carrying a bloodied basin and whispered, “Sister, what’s going on?”
The maid, her forehead slick with sweat, glanced back before replying in a hushed tone, “Haven’t you heard? The prince consort was beaten by Young Master Lin. He’s covered in wounds, but the worst is the back of his head—it’s split open, bleeding heavily.”
“What?” The other maid gasped, incredulous. “Young Master Lin? You mean General Lin’s son, again?”
The maid with the basin was about to elaborate when a frantic shout interrupted from behind, “Quick, quick, quick! The imperial physician is here! Clear the way!”
The two maids hurriedly stepped aside, bowing their heads. A gust of wind swept past as an elderly physician, well past fifty, was dragged along by a maid in a pale pink dress. His beard trembled as he panted, “Oh, slow down! My old bones can’t keep up…”
Ji Rongjin felt a sharp pain throbbing at the back of her head. Her mind was foggy—one moment, she saw the figure who had struck her from behind, and the next, a group of women in ancient attire circled around her. Even more absurdly, an old man was touching her wrist, muttering something about the prince consort being out of danger and needing rest in the days ahead.
Prince consort? What nonsense is this? Are we filming a drama?
With that final thought, Ji Rongjin drifted into unconsciousness.
Two days later.
When Ji Rongjin opened her eyes, she was greeted by an ornate canopy above her, draped in soft, fragrant bedding. As she shifted, a sharp pain shot through the back of her head, making her wince with a hiss.
At that moment, two faces appeared above her, brimming with excitement. One maid shouted, “The prince consort is awake! The prince consort is awake!” before rushing out the door. The other, dressed in pale pink, was less animated but gently helped Ji Rongjin sit up, her eyes filled with concern. “Prince Consort, how do you feel?”
As Ji Rongjin sat up, the room came into full view. Incense smoke curled from a glass tripod burner, and antique furniture lined the space. She glanced at an old-fashioned bronze mirror, then at the distinctly non-modern table and chairs, and finally at the row of women in ancient attire standing before her.
The air grew still for a few seconds.
Dongmei, the maid, noticed the prince consort staring blankly at the room’s furnishings and hesitated to speak. Suddenly, Ji Rongjin collapsed back onto the bed, pulling the blanket over her head with a dramatic rustle.
Dongmei blinked. “…Prince Consort, are you feeling unwell?”
Muffled muttering came from beneath the blanket, though Dongmei couldn’t make it out clearly. She caught only fragments, something about “…must’ve gotten up too fast…”
Dongmei didn’t understand, but at that moment, the maid who had run out returned, trailing behind the princess. The maids at the door bowed in unison, saying, “Blessings to Your Highness.”
Dongmei stepped back to the bedside, whispering, “Prince Consort, Her Highness is here to see you.”
As she spoke, the wooden door creaked open. Dongmei’s heart tightened, and she quickly bowed, saying, “Blessings to Your Highness.”
Almost instantly, every maid in the room lowered their heads, offering synchronized greetings of “Blessings to Your Highness” to the figure stepping through the doorway against the light. The room fell silent, save for the maids’ unified voices and the sound of approaching footsteps.
Ji Rongjin pricked up her ears, listening intently to the commotion outside.
“Rise,” came a clear, aloof voice. The woman asked, “How is the prince consort?”
“Your Highness,” Dongmei exhaled, stepping forward with her head still bowed, “the prince consort awoke just now, but for some reason, she lay back down.”
The conversation shifted to Ji Rongjin, and she felt an immense pressure settle over her. The room grew quiet again, and even under the blanket, she could sense the weight of a gaze fixed on her. With no other choice, she slowly pulled the blanket down, revealing just her eyes to peek at the visitor.
“Is the prince consort unwell?” The woman in a light-colored pleated skirt stepped closer, looking down at her.
Ji Rongjin was about to shake her head when she caught sight of the woman and froze, speechless. The woman wore a flowing gown, and though the dim light obscured her face, her every movement exuded elegance and an aura of authority that commanded respect.
As she drew nearer, a faint, cool fragrance filled the air. Ji Rongjin stared, momentarily entranced, before shaking her head sheepishly. “No, I’m fine.”
Shen Zhuwan’s expression flickered subtly, catching the fleeting look of awe in Ji Rongjin’s eyes.
“Good,” she said, turning to instruct, “Summon Physician Jiang.”
Ji Rongjin’s thoughts snapped back at Shen Zhuwan’s words. Her gaze locked onto the woman, and she began to calculate the likelihood of this being a film set. Moments later, Physician Jiang’s arrival forced her to confront a startling truth: after being struck on the head, she had transmigrated.
Ji Rongjin’s brows furrowed as she stared at the kindly old man taking her pulse.
Physician Jiang adjusted his fingers on her wrist and asked, “Does the prince consort feel anything unusual?”
Ji Rongjin eyed the old man cautiously before testing, “I feel… someone touching my wrist.”
“…” Physician Jiang’s fingers paused, and he shot her an exasperated look. “I mean regarding the wound on your head. Is anything amiss?”
Ji Rongjin withdrew her hand, muttering inwardly, Why so grumpy? She was about to say nothing was wrong when inspiration struck. “I feel… my head hurts terribly. Who… who are you? And who are they?”
She clutched her head dramatically, sneaking glances at the others’ reactions.
Her words seemed to startle everyone. The old physician frowned in thought, the maids gasped in shock, but the princess’s expression remained unchanged, unreadable.
Soon, Physician Jiang reached a conclusion. “It’s possible there’s still some residual bl00d in the prince consort’s brain, affecting her memory. In the coming days, speak more of past events to stimulate her recollection, and use this prescription. She should recover quickly.”
His words were exactly what Ji Rongjin wanted to hear. She’d been worrying about how to proceed, and now the physician had given her a perfect excuse to ask questions openly. In that moment, she saw Physician Jiang glowing with a saintly light.
Shen Zhuwan said little, only glancing down at Ji Rongjin after sending the physician away, her mind a whirl of thoughts. The amnesiac Ji Rongjin met her gaze, her clear eyes tinged with a hint of foolishness.
After a brief stare, Ji Rongjin suddenly smiled. As Shen Zhuwan’s eyes flickered with curiosity, Ji Rongjin said shyly, “Your Highness, you’re truly beautiful.”
The woman on the bed was pale, her eyes bright and glistening. Shen Zhuwan paused, clearly not expecting such a comment.
After a brief silence, Shen Zhuwan’s lips curved slightly. She stepped closer, sitting by Ji Rongjin’s side, and gently tucked the blanket around her.
A cool fragrance grew stronger as she leaned in. Ji Rongjin held her breath, captivated by Shen Zhuwan’s serene features. Up close, she could see Shen Zhuwan’s striking phoenix eyes, naturally alluring and impossible to look away from.
Ji Rongjin sighed inwardly, basking in Shen Zhuwan’s care with quiet satisfaction.
Shen Zhuwan, watching the contented expression on Ji Rongjin’s face, said softly, “The prince consort never spoke so boldly before.”
Ji Rongjin froze, coughing lightly before mumbling, “Back then, I kept it in my heart, too afraid to say it. Now that I don’t remember the past, I’m not scared anymore.”
She glanced cautiously at Shen Zhuwan, adding, “Your Highness, you won’t blame me, will you?”
Oh no, did I give myself away? I really shouldn’t speak so recklessly.
Shen Zhuwan’s gaze settled on Ji Rongjin’s anxious face, and she smiled warmly. “Of course not.”
Just then, a commotion erupted outside. Shen Zhuwan turned to look, and a maid soon returned, whispering something in her ear.
The smile on Shen Zhuwan’s face faded slightly. She turned to Ji Rongjin. “Rest for now, Prince Consort. I’ll visit you later.”
Ji Rongjin nodded, watching as Shen Zhuwan’s pleated skirt swayed like falling pear blossoms as she stood. Every maid kept their heads bowed in her presence, and she moved with unshakable grace and dignity.
As Shen Zhuwan left the room, Ji Rongjin let out a long breath. Now, she could finally start planning her next steps.
Her eyes darted around, and she pointed at a maid. “You there, what’s your name?”
Dongmei, slightly surprised, answered, “Your Highness, my name is Dongmei.”
“Dongmei?” Ji Rongjin blinked. “What kind of Dongmei?”
Dongmei looked puzzled. “The ‘Dong’ of winter and the ‘Mei’ of plum blossoms.”
“No surname?”
The maid shook her head, and Ji Rongjin frowned. “That’s odd. Shouldn’t your surname be Ma?”
Dongmei: “?”
Ji Rongjin dropped the topic and continued, “Dongmei, I’m going to ask you some questions. You know my head’s injured, and I don’t remember much from before…”
Shen Zhuwan returned to her study, leaving her maids and guards outside. After taking a few steps, she sensed a presence in the room.
She swiftly rounded the screen and saw a masked young man lounging on her desk, one leg crossed over the other. He grinned cheekily upon seeing her. “It’s been a few days, Your Highness, and you’ve grown even sharper…”
Before he could finish, he dodged a swift palm strike, tumbling off the desk and hiding behind a priceless vase. He chuckled, “Your Highness, I was complimenting you! Why the attack?”
Shen Zhuwan glanced at the tense young man, brushing the desk with a flick of her sleeve before saying coolly, “It’s been a few days, and you’ve grown even more insolent.”
The young man noticed her gesture and muttered, “So many rules.”
His words were cut short by Shen Zhuwan’s icy gaze. He coughed, straightening up. “Your Highness, we’ve completed your order. I came to report. If you have more tasks like killing or looting, feel free to contact Xuange again.”
Shen Zhuwan tossed him a money pouch. He opened it, counted the coins, and grinned widely. “As expected of Your Highness—always a pleasure doing business. I’ll take my leave.”
With that, he leapt out the window and vanished in a few strides.
After his departure, another figure appeared in the study, reporting in a low voice, “Your Highness, we’ve inspected the scene. All 145 members of the Minister of Revenue’s household, from the elderly to infants, are dead. Not a single survivor. There was no sound during last night’s operation, and no traces were left behind.”
The figure’s voice trembled with awe. “As you predicted, Your Highness, Xuange is a force to be reckoned with.”
Shen Zhuwan’s expression darkened. The court was already a tangled web, and now this shadowy faction had emerged in the martial world. Xuange’s existence was a looming threat.
“Enough,” she said. “Set this matter aside for now. Did you retrieve the items?”
The figure handed her several envelopes. “Mission accomplished.”
Shen Zhuwan scanned the letters and nodded. “This matter ends here. Inform the general’s residence that the prince consort is awake.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
After a day of questioning, Ji Rongjin finally had a clearer picture of her situation.
The current dynasty, Daqian, was one that didn’t exist in history. Five years ago, the previous emperor passed away, and the grief-stricken empress died shortly after giving birth to Shen Chi, leaving the fifteen-year-old Shen Zhuwan to care for her newborn brother. Fortunately, Shen Zhuwan’s competence, bolstered by the late emperor’s edict to oversee the state and the support of her uncle, General Lin, allowed her to establish herself in the court.
It could be said that Shen Zhuwan’s position today was largely due to General Lin’s aid.
And the one who had beaten Ji Rongjin to a pulp was none other than General Lin’s only son, Shen Zhuwan’s nominal cousin—Lin Changcun.
Lying on a rocking chair, Ji Rongjin sighed after piecing together the situation.
Dongmei, puzzled, asked, “Why is the prince consort sighing?”
Ji Rongjin’s face was full of mock sorrow. “With the relationship between Her Highness and the general, I’m afraid I took this beating for nothing.”
Dongmei nodded thoughtfully. “That’s true. In the past, when Young Master Lin beat you, it seems nothing ever came of it.”
Ji Rongjin: “?” In the past?