In her past life, Yu Nanqing disguised herself as a man to take the imperial exams and became the top scholar, only to choose the wrong master and end up abandoned in the wilderness. Reborn before the exams, Yu Nanqing decisively accepted the imperial decree to marry the deposed crown prince, Xiao Qiling, as a “lucky bride” to ward off his misfortune.

Rumors said the deposed crown prince had been poisoned years ago, afflicted with a madness that drove him to kill and drink blood when the toxin flared. On their wedding night, the sound of blades clashing outside sent Yu Nanqing fleeing—until she saw:

Corpses littered the courtyard, and Xiao Qiling stood with hair cascading over their shoulders, calmly removing their cloak to reveal a slender, unmistakably feminine figure.

The deposed crown prince… was a woman?!

Before Yu Nanqing could process the shock, those supposedly tender peach-blossom eyes turned sharply toward her, icy with disdain. Thinking fast, Yu Nanqing—her eyes reddened from the wind, shimmering like spring waters—stumbled forward, feigning weakness as she collapsed into Xiao Qiling’s arms: “I’m scared of pain… Could you bite a little gentler?”

Xiao Qiling: …?

From that day on, Yu Nanqing devoted all her talents to providing Xiao Qiling with “end-of-life care.”

One day, she swore deep affection; the next, she vowed she could live for no one else. Taking advantage of Xiao Qiling’s supposedly imminent demise, she even dared to climb into the sickbed in sheer, gauzy robes, gazing tenderly as she offered to mourn her for the rest of her life.

But Yu Nanqing never expected that Xiao Qiling’s ascetic indifference was a lie—and her “impending death” even more so.

So when—

Xiao Qiling faked her death to escape, a brilliant new strategist joined her army, composing dazzling battle plans and deploying troops with godlike precision. Thrilled, Xiao Qiling decided to meet this prodigy in person.

Yet when the curtain lifted, the figure seated below bore an uncanny resemblance to that delicate, clingy little wife of hers who had done nothing but orbit around her back at the deposed crown prince’s residence.

No—not just similar. It was the same person!

Listening as Yu Nanqing gushed in that achingly familiar tone—”I’ve admired you for so long,” “I could never serve another”—Xiao Qiling remembered all those sweet nothings from the past. With a cold smirk, she removed her mask.

Yu Nanqing’s voice died in her throat. She turned to flee.

Too late.

That night, blindfolded, Yu Nanqing shivered as the woman behind her coaxed in a honeyed whisper: “Be good, Qingqing… just one more bite.”

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