Transmigrated into a Scummy Alpha Playboy in Ancient Times (GL) - Chapter 2

Shen Xingyue carried the unconscious Su Muyu back into the room and had a few maids help change her out of the snow-soaked clothes, dressing her in a fresh set of inner robes. While this was happening, Shen Xingyue continued receiving a flood of information from the system about the history of the body she now inhabited.

This dynasty was one she had never heard of before, and even the way people categorized gender was entirely different from her original world. Here, there were six genders: Male and Female Qianyuan (Alpha), Male and Female Zhongyong (Beta), and Male and Female Kunzé (Omega).

The Shen Xingyue of this world—who shared her name—was, to put it bluntly, absolute scum. As the legitimate eldest daughter of Prince Ankang, she ran roughshod over the capital, a tyrant among the wealthy elite. Wherever she went, chaos followed. Nobles and commoners alike dared not provoke her.

Not long ago, she had set her sights on Su Muqiu, the eldest daughter of Su Changyuan, the Deputy Minister of Rites. Su Changyuan only held a fifth-rank official position, so by all rights, a marriage proposal from a royal family member should have been a blessing. But Shen Xingyue’s infamy was so well known that Su Muqiu would rather die than marry her. In the end, she had her unloved half-sister, Su Muyu, take her place.

Upon discovering she’d been tricked, Shen Xingyue lashed out, directing all her anger at Su Muyu. She’d force her to kneel in the snow wearing only thin inner garments and constantly humiliate her with cruel words—threatening to hand her over to the palace guards to be “used” if she didn’t kneel long enough.

The head injury Shen Xingyue currently bore had come from just such an incident. She had been drinking with some friends and, in a drunken rage, remembered being duped by the Su family. She stormed into Tinglan Pavilion, dragged Su Muyu out, and declared she would give her to a passing beggar to vent her anger. Su Muyu resisted fiercely. Shen Xingyue, already unsteady from alcohol, fell and hit her head against the courtyard wall.

To make the scenario more convincing, the system had replicated the same injury on Shen Xingyue’s real body.

In short, Su Muyu’s position in the prince’s household had been rock bottom—so low that even passing ants could trample her without consequence.

As Shen Xingyue absorbed all this information, her heart grew cold.

No wonder Su Muyu’s favorability score was -200. Honestly, if she were Su Muyu, she’d want to kill her too. What kind of ultimate scumbag was this original Shen Xingyue? Su Muyu was clearly a victim here!

While she was lost in thought, the doctor the maid had summoned arrived. She was a young woman, a female Zhongyong, followed by two apprentices carrying medicine boxes.

“Greetings, Your Highness,” the physician greeted Shen Xingyue with a formal bow.

“No need for that,” Shen Xingyue waved her off. “Just hurry and examine her. Why did she faint?”

“Yes, Your Highness.” The physician—Zhou Miao—bowed again and sat by the bedside to check Su Muyu’s pulse. After just a few moments, her brows furrowed deeply.

Zhou Miao was the appointed doctor for Prince Kang’s household, living in one of the side courtyards. She had heard of the Princess Consort’s situation before—how she was frequently ill but never treated by an official physician. Instead, a few random herbs would be handed over, as everyone knew the consort was not favored.

Seeing her expression darken, Shen Xingyue stepped forward. “How is she? Be honest.”

Zhou Miao rose and respectfully replied, “The Princess Consort has caught a severe chill and is already quite frail. In addition—”

She hesitated, lips pursed, not daring to continue for fear of offending this notoriously volatile princess.

“In addition what? Speak!” Shen Xingyue snapped, brows furrowed.

Cold sweat dotted Zhou Miao’s forehead. Though she feared losing her position, her conscience as a doctor finally won out. Gritting her teeth, she said, “In addition to the cold, the Princess Consort suffers from long-term malnourishment. She often goes hungry or eats inconsistently. Her body is severely weakened. If this continues, the next serious illness could be life-threatening.”

Shen Xingyue paled. If the female lead died, wouldn’t that mean she would die too?

Without hesitation, she ordered, “Then start treatment immediately. From today on, you’re personally responsible for Su Muyu’s care. Help her recover as quickly as possible. And listen closely—no one else is to handle her medicine. You’ll oversee the entire process: prescribing, preparing, delivering. If anything happens to her, the prince’s entire medical staff might as well pack their things and leave.”

“Yes, Your Highness. I’ll do my utmost to restore the Princess Consort’s health. But I recommend combining medicinal treatment with nutritional support.”

“Of course. Get the medicine ready. She’s been kneeling in the snow for who knows how long—she’d better not spike a fever,” Shen Xingyue said, her brow furrowed in concern.

The female lead is my lifeline now—if she goes, I go too.

“Yes, Your Highness.” Zhou Miao didn’t ask further, though she didn’t fully understand what “fever” meant. From her perspective, Su Muyu’s condition involved both wind-cold and febrile symptoms.

Still, seeing that Shen Xingyue was focused on saving the consort, Zhou Miao finally let out a quiet sigh of relief.

Several maids were still standing attentively in the room. Shen Xingyue had a basin of warm water brought in. She soaked a cloth and gently wiped Su Muyu’s face and hands before pulling the quilt up higher to help her sweat out the chill.

To the maids watching, Shen Xingyue’s actions were downright bizarre. After all, it was common knowledge in the prince’s household that the princess detested the princess consort. No one doubted the rumors that Shen Xingyue often punished and abused Su Muyu—but this? Personally caring for her? That they could hardly believe.

Yiliu, the head maid, narrowed her eyes, silently observing Shen Xingyue. She couldn’t quite figure out what her mistress was planning.

Shen Xingyue glanced around the room and saw six or seven maids standing there. With nothing urgent left to do, their presence only felt like a hindrance. She waved a hand and said, “You can all leave for now. I’ll call if I need anything.”

Yiliu bowed with the others. “We’ll be waiting in the side room, Your Highness. Just call if you need us.”

“Mm,” Shen Xingyue murmured a faint acknowledgment, her gaze never straying from Su Muyu.

This dynasty was called Beichuan, located in the far northern reaches of the continent—a land of bitter cold. Out of the year’s twelve months, only three had mild spring temperatures. The remaining nine were dominated by unrelenting winter. Due to the extreme climate, it wasn’t practical for servants to remain on constant outdoor duty, so side rooms were built along the main residence. A bell system was used: if the master needed anything, ringing the bell near the bed would trigger a connected bell in the side room to alert the servants.

Su Muyu remained unconscious, her body trembling beneath the thick quilt. Shen Xingyue sighed. In such weather, even standing outside for a few minutes was unbearable—let alone kneeling in the snow all day like Su Muyu had.

Seeing that she was still cold, Shen Xingyue added another quilt over her, tucking it tightly around her. The room was quite warm—two braziers had been lit, and even in just a thin inner robe, Shen Xingyue was starting to feel hot.

Worried about a potential fever, she reached out and touched Su Muyu’s forehead. It was burning.

Shen Xingyue’s heart clenched. She quickly rang the bell at the bedside.

Moments later, Yiliu entered with a few other maids in tow.

“Go find that physician and tell her the consort’s running a high fever. She needs immediate treatment. Tell them to hurry with the medicine,” Shen Xingyue ordered, then thought for a second. “No—don’t send someone. You go yourself and take a few of them with you.”

“Yes, Your Highness.” Yiliu bowed deeply, said nothing more, and quickly led a few younger maids out.

On the way, the junior maids couldn’t help whispering among themselves:

“Why do you think the princess is acting so differently today? Before, she’d just toss the consort back to Tinglan Pavilion after punishing her and tell someone to fetch some medicine. Why all this fuss now?”

“I don’t know! And she even carried her back to her own chambers. She never used to let the consort set foot inside.”

“Can’t figure it out. Maybe she’s scheming something new again.”

As the princess’s head maid, Yiliu had her own doubts. Something about Shen Xingyue’s sudden kindness toward Su Muyu felt… genuine. She couldn’t shake the feeling that things were changing. Maybe it was time she started treating the consort more seriously too.

“Enough! Do you think it’s your place to gossip about Her Highness?” Yiliu snapped, her brows drawn tight as she turned to glare at them. “Do you want to be thrown out of the prince’s estate?”

The girls immediately fell silent. Yiliu’s status made her untouchable to low-ranking servants like them.

They quickened their pace and soon reached the estate’s medicine hall, where Physician Zhou Miao worked. Including her and her two apprentices, six people lived there—the rest were assistants who sorted herbs and did chores.

Yiliu entered hurriedly. “Physician Zhou, the consort has a high fever. Her Highness sent me to ask you to hurry with the medicine.”

“We’ve already sent Wang Qian to prepare the decoction. It should be ready soon,” Zhou Miao replied with a smile. “I’ll come by personally afterward as well.”

Despite holding an official ninth-rank title, palace physicians like Zhou Miao had little real authority. If a noble was displeased with their performance, they could be dismissed the next day. So, she treated head maids like Yiliu with respectful caution.

“Good. That’ll put Her Highness at ease,” Yiliu nodded and waited at the medicine hall.

Meanwhile, over in another wing of the estate, Hexiang had taken Cui Zhu—the consort’s loyal maid—to “find her a place to stay.” She led her to a run-down servant’s quarters near the outdoor latrines, a space that had long been abandoned. The room reeked of mildew and waste.

Standing at the doorway, Hexiang glared at Cui Zhu and sneered, “The princess is feeling generous today and told me to find you a place to sleep. This is it. At least it’s shelter. You probably won’t freeze to death.”

“It smells awful in here. This is right next to the latrines,” Cui Zhu’s nose wrinkled, unable to keep the disgust from her face.

“Exactly! Even rats wouldn’t live here. Filthy lowborn,” sneered Hong’er, one of Hexiang’s tag-alongs, covering her mouth with a handkerchief and pretending to gag.

“That’s right,” chimed in Lu Ye with a scoff. “Someone from a commoner’s family, serving a mistress who’s not even favored… you deserve to be treated like this.”