Special Agent’s Rebirth: The Almighty Goddess of Quick Transmigration - Chapter 203

“She took her own life. Even if she dies, the General won’t be able to blame the Empress.” Yuwen Jing glanced coldly at the figure lying on the ground, his lips pressed into a thin line. “It’d be better if she were dead.”

Physician Liu had served in the palace for many years and had heard countless secrets—all of which he kept buried in his heart.

But this was the first time the Emperor’s words sent a chill down his spine.

The heart of an emperor is merciless.

That saying had never been more true.

“Someone, take Consort Ye to Bieyun Pavilion,” Yuwen Jing ordered indifferently, withdrawing his gaze from Ye Shaohua. “I won’t have her death tarnish Huashang’s auspicious day.”

Bieyun Pavilion—though the name sounded elegant, everyone present knew it was the Cold Palace.

“Imperial Brother, is this treatment of Consort Ye… appropriate?” Yuwen Zhe, who had been calmly drinking amidst the bloody scene, frowned slightly.

But when his eyes fell upon Qu Huashang, he swallowed the rest of his words. A trace of bitterness flickered in his eyes as he set down his wine cup and stood.

“This subject shall not delay Your Majesty’s… joyous night.”

Ye Shaohua felt a searing pain in her chest. In truth, she had already crossed over while still in the palace hall, but though her mind was awake, she had been unable to open her eyes.

Hearing a cough, the maidservant wiping tears beside her quickly brought over a cup of water. “Your Highness, you’re finally awake!”

Ye Shaohua struggled to sit up, and the maidservant, understanding her intention, carefully supported her, placing a soft cushion behind her back.

After absorbing the full memories of the original host, Ye Shaohua’s expression turned complicated.

The original host was the only daughter of the Cavalry General. Before marriage, she had lived in boundless glory. A noblewoman of her status could only be wed to someone of equal standing—the Crown Prince, for instance.

The Third Prince, after several “chance encounters” and his refined demeanor, successfully won her over. The General married his beloved daughter to him.

Yet after the wedding, the Third Prince used the excuse that she was “not yet eighteen” to avoid sharing a bed with her—and took no other concubines.

Moved by his “devotion,” the original host dedicated herself to aiding him in the princes’ power struggles. With her formidable martial skills, she assassinated rivals in the shadows and even took two fatal blows for him.

With the General’s support, the Third Prince successfully seized the throne.

That day also happened to be the original host’s eighteenth birthday. But before she could rejoice, Qu Huashang appeared—a devastating blow.

On the night of his coronation, Yuwen Jing coldly informed her:

The reason he had taken no other women was never for Ye Shaohua’s sake—but for Qu Huashang’s.

How admirable of Qu Huashang to remain unmarried at nineteen, lying in wait all this time.

…

As Ye Shaohua pondered, the maidservant brought over the decocted medicine. Blowing on the spoon to cool it, she carefully fed Ye Shaohua. “Your Highness, please drink it while it’s warm.”

Never in her life had Ye Shaohua been in such a wretched state.

Her chest and arm throbbed with pain. She took the bowl herself—likely because the original host had always been independent, the maidservant didn’t find the action strange.

But instead of drinking, Ye Shaohua sniffed the medicine and frowned. “Shuangyue, where did you get this?”

“It… it was given by Sun Ping,” Shuangyue stammered, glancing at her nervously. “Your Highness, please don’t refuse it just because it came from him. I was afraid you wouldn’t take it, so I…”

Sun Ping had once been the chief eunuch serving Ye Shaohua. But after her fall from grace, he voluntarily pledged loyalty to Qu Huashang and remained in Changchun Palace.

With Ye Shaohua’s downfall, nearly all her servants abandoned her—except Shuangyue, the maidservant who had accompanied her as part of her dowry.

To display her magnanimity, Qu Huashang accepted all the defectors from Ye Shaohua’s palace.

Leaving Ye Shaohua with only Shuangyue.

“It’s not because of him,” Ye Shaohua said, reclining slightly. Her slender fingers toyed with the spoon, her eyes lazily half-lidded. The flickering candlelight cast a glow on her jade-like face—even in her weakened state, her beauty made Shuangyue momentarily dazed.

“This medicine has been tampered with.”

The original host’s wound had never healed because it contained an herb that prevented recovery.

Qu Huashang must still resent her for occupying the position of “principal wife” for two years.

“What?! How dare Sun Ping commit such treason?!” Shuangyue shot to her feet, her face dark with fury.

Ye Shaohua smirked. “He might not know. He was just the one who delivered it.”

Even so, Shuangyue wasn’t comforted. Her expression remained one of betrayal before she finally composed herself.

“Your Highness,” she asked hesitantly, “how did you know?”

She found it strange. The strong herbal scent should have masked any additions—yet Ye Shaohua could not only detect the extra ingredient but also knew it hindered healing.

“I studied herbs with a master before,” Ye Shaohua replied casually, handing the bowl back. “Shuangyue, take the Hetian jade from the box and exchange it for medicinal herbs at the Imperial Hospital. I’ll tell you which ones to get.”

With a little coaxing, Shuangyue believed her.

Thankfully, she didn’t suspect anything supernatural—or this would’ve been harder to explain.

Clutching the dowry jade, Shuangyue couldn’t hold back her tears.

Her young mistress had never suffered such humiliation back in the General’s Manor. Yet now that the Emperor had ascended the throne, he turned on her without hesitation.

Gritting her teeth, Shuangyue tightened her grip on the jade.

She would wait until the General and the Young Master returned from the battlefield!

Seeing Shuangyue’s straightened back, Ye Shaohua sighed inwardly.

In the original plot, the host never lived to see the return of her father and brother.

Desperate to survive, she had fought against Qu Huashang, believing that Yuwen Jing would show her some mercy—after all, they had once been husband and wife.

But Qu Huashang only saw her as a clown. Without lifting a finger, she had others do her bidding. With just a glance, countless people inside and outside the palace were willing to kill Ye Shaohua for her.

In the end, Ye Shaohua died at the hands of a martial artist who adored Qu Huashang.

When the General and his son returned victorious, all they found was a cold memorial tablet.

Having doted on their daughter/sister all her life, they rebelled without hesitation—only to be pierced by a thousand arrows outside the palace gates.

Yuwen Jing, who had been biding his time for this moment, then “generously” allowed the Ye family to retain their titles and treated their remaining descendants well.

The fact that he had once cast Ye Shaohua into the Cold Palace was overshadowed by this act of “magnanimity,” earning him widespread praise.

At this point in the story, the situation seemed hopeless.

But—

Ye Shaohua curled her fingers slightly, a gentle smile playing on her lips.

But…

She was here now.