I Was Supposed to Be the Villainous Consort

This winter was already cold, but now Princess Consort Wan felt her heart was even colder.

It was hard to describe the feeling in her heart, for the Emperor had never been as protective of her as he was of Song Yunzhao.

Feng Yi had no patience to put on a show for Princess Consort Wan. He wasn’t the man he was five years ago. He simply nodded at her and continued forward, holding Yun Zhao’s hand.

Song Yunzhao followed the Emperor in a daze, feeling that something was off about this whole scene.

’According to how palace dramas usually go, I’m supposed to have a war of words with Princess Consort Wan. That would be a plot worthy of the price of admission. But this is it?’

’We’re just leaving like that?’

Perhaps the look on Song Yunzhao’s face was too obvious, for Feng Yi chuckled. "You want to stay and chat with Princess Consort Wan?"

"No, I don’t," Song Yunzhao replied instantly. ’A chat with Princess Consort Wan would give me a heart attack. Her artsy, dramatic life is something a common mortal like me can neither understand nor get mixed up in.’

Feng Yi’s lips curved into a wide smile. He squeezed Yun Zhao’s hand gently. "Then let’s go."

Song Yunzhao could sense the Emperor was in a very good mood, but she couldn’t figure out why. ’Is it just because we didn’t stay to chat with Princess Consort Wan?’

’Something seems off.’

"Your Highness, the wind is picking up. We should return to the palace," Le Chun cautiously reminded from the side, her heart aching for her mistress.

She had just seen it clearly: it was the Emperor who had taken the initiative to hold Song Jieyu’s hand. And in response to her own mistress’s words of concern, the Emperor had instead given the credit to Song Jieyu.

Song Jieyu, Song Jieyu... It seemed that no matter what happened now, Song Jieyu was always involved.

In the past, no matter how much the Emperor doted on Song Jieyu, it all happened behind the closed gates of Wangyou Palace. Who had ever witnessed it?

But seeing it with her own eyes now was all the more heartbreaking.

Song Jieyu didn’t even have to do anything. She just had to smile at the Emperor, and he would shield her behind him.

Besides her face, what else about Song Jieyu was so impressive?

She had an overbearing personality and acted arrogantly, yet the Emperor liked her anyway.

Le Chun felt deeply sorry for her mistress.

Princess Consort Wan walked back with heavy steps. Upon entering Roufu Palace, she went straight to her study. She sat down, collected her thoughts, and began to write a letter to her father.

She rarely discussed palace affairs with her family, so they all assumed she was doing well. But now, having seen with her own eyes how the Emperor doted on and protected Song Yunzhao, she knew one thing for certain: if Song Yunzhao’s favor was allowed to continue, she would have even less of a chance to get close to the Emperor.

At this thought, Princess Consort Wan’s eyes instantly reddened.

She had been in the palace for so many years, always waiting for the Emperor.

Although she had been made a Princess Consort and the Emperor sometimes stayed the night at Roufu Palace, she was still a virgin. Too ashamed to tell her family, she had made sure her attendants kept the secret. Everyone thought she, Princess Consort Wan, was favored, but what was the reality?

She was nothing.

She knew the Emperor was displeased that she had been forced into the palace all those years ago, but she had always believed that, with time, he would surely see her true feelings.

But now, with the appearance of Song Yunzhao, she feared she would never see that day if she didn’t take action.

Halfway through the letter, Princess Consort Wan could no longer contain her emotions. Tears fell one by one, blurring the ink on the page. She forcefully tore the letter to pieces, crumpled it into a ball, and collapsed onto her desk, sobbing.

After her tears subsided, she felt much calmer. She laid out a new sheet of paper and picked up her brush.

Suddenly, she understood Princess Consort Zhuang’s desperation.

On New Year’s Eve, Song Yunzhao and Feng Yi rose early. They had to offer incense and perform rites to invite the gods and buddhas, walking all the way from the eastern and western prayer halls of Taiji Palace to the main palace temple. ’Being the Emperor isn’t easy,’ she thought. ’He has to wake up early even during the New Year to worship ancestors and pray for the nation.’

As a mere concubine, Song Yunzhao could not participate in such a grand affair. Her job was to put up door gods and hang palace lanterns.

The Imperial Palace also had the tradition of putting up door gods. With its many gates and large courtyards, every door had to have a festive "door sticker" pasted on it.

Chengtian Gate in the Inner Imperial City featured the common image of a General, while the other gates, large and small, were decorated with various New Year’s paintings rarely seen by common folk—images of civil servants, children, and female immortals.

Palace lanterns were hung in rows. Under the eaves and along the corridors hung all kinds of lanterns crafted by master artisans. Towering Longevity Lanterns were suspended at the entrance of Taiji Palace, their magnificent fabric strips embroidered with exquisite dragon patterns and inscribed with verses of blessing and good fortune. The lighting of the sky lanterns to pray for the common people was an even more magnificent spectacle.

Song Yunzhao wasn’t concerned with what others in the palace were doing. At Wangyou Palace, she personally led her palace attendants in putting up door gods and hanging lanterns. The entire staff gathered together, creating a lively and bustling atmosphere.