The Vicious Supporting Villainess’s Chronicle of Serving Pleasure (Historical 1v1, H) - Chapter 1

Shen Chiying awakened.

Cold sweat soaked through her sleepwear; her scattered gaze slowly drew into focus, the dragon-and-phoenix roundels on the bed canopy coming into view.

The moment she woke, countless absurd memories surged into her mind like a tide.

And the clearer her head grew, the truer and sharper those memories became, etched hard into her mind.

It turned out the world she was in was a storybook titled His Majesty’s Too-Late Regret.

With a title like that, the male lead was naturally the reigning emperor, Huan Jin. The book unfolded from the perspective of the female lead, Shen Wanhua—

Her mother was the Princess Royal; her father, the titled noble Marquis of Wuxing. From birth, Shen Wanhua was the foremost lady of the capital.

Yet she alone gave her heart to Prince of Xin, Huan Jin, accompanying him through the bl00d and storms of the struggle for the throne, running herself ragged to maneuver among all the factions for his sake.

However, the first imperial edict Huan Jin issued after ascending the throne was to install her concubine-born younger sister as empress…

Most ironic of all, back then, pitying her half sister’s difficult situation in the marquis’s household, Shen Wanhua had personally begged Huan Jin to bring the girl out of the estate and look after her.

Who could have imagined the two of them would carry on an affair behind her back.

Grief-stricken as she was, Shen Wanhua could only swallow every drop of bitterness alone.

But her half sister was not content even after seizing the empress’s seat: she repeatedly framed and entrapped her, and even sought to wipe her out completely.

Later, Shen Wanhua only learned by chance that the reason her half sister could become empress at all was because she had falsely claimed the life-saving favor that had once been Shen Wanhua’s.

At this thought, Shen Chiying bit her lower lip lightly; a flicker of awkward guilt crossed her eyes.

In the book, she was that very vicious half sister who usurped another’s place.

She couldn’t even defend herself, for the chapbook said nothing but the truth.

Thinking of how, in the book, her empress’s seat was eventually stripped away and she fell to a dungeon prisoner, punished and tormented day after day… a chill crept up Shen Chiying’s spine, as if an invisible hand had closed around her heart.

Seeing her expression shift again and again, the palace maids attending her were both worried and puzzled.

“Your Majesty?” The head maid, Coral, cradled a sweet-white-glaze bowl with an entwined-lotus pattern and called softly, “You’ve been unconscious all day. Would you take a little congee first?”

Only then did Shen Chiying realize dusk had fallen thick.

“Very well.” She forced herself to rally, her voice weak and a little hoarse. “As it happens, I’m hungry too. Hurry and bring the meal.”

Perhaps she had lain too long—Shen Chiying had only just braced a hand on the edge of the couch to sit up when her vision went abruptly dark and a buzzing filled her ears; she nearly toppled back—

“Your Majesty!” The maids’ hearts lurched; they rushed forward to support her.

With their help, Shen Chiying freshened up simply, then took half a small bowl of easy-to-digest milk porridge with poria and gorgon seeds. Only then did the pallor in her face ease a little.

With the moon high overhead, Shen Chiying stared blankly at the dappled moon-shadows cast across the window lattice, then asked in a low voice, “Has anything major happened in the palace or beyond today?”

The head maid, Feicui, hesitated a little. “In reply to Your Majesty: no great matter—but there is one small thing. Princess Duanhui heard of Your Majesty’s coma and came to Kunning Palace at noon…”

Shen Chiying’s fingertips trembled; a prickle of foreboding stirred in her heart.

Princess Duanhui was her legitimate elder sister, Shen Wanhua—the Princess Royal of Fuyang’s daughter, and the story’s heroine.

“Did Elder Sister… happen to encounter His Majesty here?” Shen Chiying asked, brows knitting.

The entire hallful of attendants held their breath at once; a few timid ones were already shaking—everyone knew the empress was famously jealous, and most dreaded her elder sister seeing the emperor.

“In reply to Your Majesty… yes.” Feicui’s voice quivered.

As expected, Shen Chiying snapped, imperious, “Then why didn’t you stop her?!”

With a collective thud, they all dropped to their knees, faces full of panic. “Forgive us, Your Majesty! Forgive us, Your Majesty!”

Feicui reminded her in a small voice, “Your Majesty, just days ago at a banquet you personally invited the princess to come often to Kunning Palace to talk and relieve your boredom. We didn’t dare bar her…”

Shen Chiying was struck speechless for a moment, her anger catching in her throat.

She had indeed said that—but only to put on a show of sisterly affection before Huan Jin.

Enough. She let out a slow breath from deep in her chest.

“It’s I who wronged you. Up with you, all of you. This month each of you will draw an extra half-year’s stipend—from my private treasury.”

The thunderbolt they had expected never fell; instead they received a lavish reward. Joy flickered across the attendants’ faces and they bowed in a rush. “Our thanks for Your Majesty’s grace!”

Shen Chiying waved it off, unconcerned.

As the concubine-born daughter of a prince consort, she had suffered all manner of bullying since childhood. Once she rose to power, it was as if she meant to make up for the past: food, clothing, and use were all the height of extravagance; her hand was generous, her spending like pouring water.

Thus, even though she was daily arrogant and overbearing, quick-tempered to the touch, the attendants at her side remained unwaveringly loyal.

After a moment’s thought, Shen Chiying couldn’t help but ask, “Did Elder Sister and His Majesty say anything?”