Early in the morning, Wan'er was dragged out of bed by half a dozen maids.Before she could even process what day it was, she was stripped, scrubbed, and dumped into a steaming bath full of flower petals.
"…What kind of flowers are these?" she mumbled, eyes half-open. "They smell like grass and regret."
No one answered. The maids simply bowed and continued splashing water over her head like she was a sacrificial chicken.
By the time they finished dressing and painting her, Wan'er finally looked in the mirror—
—and froze.
Her reflection stared back, face so white it looked like she had been dunked in a sack of flour.
"NANII KOREEEEEEEEEEE?!"
(Author note: I'm laughing while writing this because even I feel stupid. 😆😆)
Wan'er's scream made several maids drop their brushes.
"GET. OUT."
Her voice was calm, dangerous, and very, very final.
She had never been this angry in either of her lives.
Even though Wan'er was never into makeup, she knew bad art when she saw it. The ghostly face glaring back at her belonged in a haunted painting, not a royal wedding.
"This is stupid," she muttered, wiping everything off with a towel.
Then, using what remained of her modern-world skills, she reapplied it herself:a touch of powder, soft color on the lips, neat brows, a little glow.Simple. Elegant. Acceptable to the human eye.
When she was done, she looked like a noble lady from a modern commercial instead of an extra from a funeral scene.
Before long, a servant came to guide her to the bridal sedan.
Everything was red—red drapes, red silk, red lanterns, red cushions.
So much red that Wan'er felt dizzy.
'If I see one more shade of crimson, I'm going to photosynthesize,' she thought, expression blank.
Wan'er wasn't exactly carefree—she was cautious by nature. And every instinct told her that the Duke Lian household was full of schemers.
Her mother, the Duke's first wife, had died suddenly years ago, the truth buried under layers of silence. The second wife, Duchess Lian Weiyu, was Meiyu's mother—sweet on the surface, sharp as a blade underneath.
Wan'er, the only daughter of the first wife, had been spoiled in public but private in life. Behind her arrogance, she trained in cultivation quietly, hiding her strength even from her father.
As she was about to step out of the mansion, the crowd gasped.
A tall man in crimson robes appeared and, without a word, scooped her up in his arms—bridal-style—and carried her straight into the sedan.
The onlookers whispered excitedly.
"Did Lady Wan'er request the emperor to pick her up himself?!"
"Such boldness! How romantic!"
Wan'er, in his arms, just stared blankly into space.I did not sign up for this DLC.
The journey to the palace was silent.The wedding ceremony even more so.
Wan'er moved through the motions mechanically—kneeling, bowing, sipping wine—all with the same neutral face of someone attending a corporate meeting.
By the time she was escorted to the bridal chamber, she was beyond exhausted.
An hour passed.No emperor.
Wan'er tugged off her elaborate hair ornaments and let her hair fall free.
"I'm hungry."
Without ceremony, she sat down at the banquet table and helped herself. Roast duck, dumplings, dessert—gone in minutes.
After finishing, she leaned back, patted her stomach, and pulled out a small pill from her sleeve.
"Just in case," she muttered. "Sleeping pill. If he's old and wrinkly, I'm playing dead."
She swallowed it and promptly collapsed onto the bed in a comfortable heap, changing into her nightwear first because, priorities.
Meanwhile, somewhere else in the palace—
Emperor Xiang looked up from his desk."How is the new Empress?"
"Answering Your Majesty," the shadow guard said respectfully, "she… ate the entire table and then went to sleep."
The emperor's brush froze mid-stroke."…She didn't throw a tantrum?"
"No, Your Majesty."
"…Interesting."
With a soft sigh, the emperor stood and left his study.
When Emperor Xiang opened the bridal chamber door, he stopped short.
The room was dimly lit by the red lanterns.The new Empress lay on the bed, peacefully asleep, hair down, face serene and—adorably smug even in slumber.
She looked nothing like the rumors.
"I will sleep here tonight," he said quietly.
The shadow guard blinked but wisely said nothing before vanishing into the shadows.
The emperor changed into nightwear, slipped under the blanket, and—after a moment's hesitation—gently pulled Wan'er into his arms.
She instinctively snuggled closer, murmuring softly in her sleep.
A smile tugged at his lips.
'Oh my… she's cute.'
And for the first time in years, Emperor Xiang closed his eyes with a genuine smile.