Remarried to a top-tier playboy, her reborn ex-husband is filled with regret.

The sandalwood beads bounced all over the ground, rolling under the altar, into the cracks in the threshold, and next to the prayer cushion.

She looked down at the beads and suddenly felt breathless.

She stood up, supporting herself on the offering table; her legs felt as weak as if she were walking on cotton.

"Where is Father? Where is Mother? Where is Sister?"

Qiuhe's lips trembled for a long time before she finally finished speaking.

Lord Shen was imprisoned in the Censorate for embezzlement.

The raiders surrounded the Shen residence, leaving no room to move. The old lady and young lady were temporarily detained in a side courtyard, awaiting their fate.

Shen didn't know how she got out of the Buddhist hall.

She walked through the corridor, through the moon gate, and through the path lined with crabapple trees.

The crabapple blossoms were in full bloom, and pink and white petals fell on her shoulder, but she didn't stop to brush them off.

The Wing King was in his study.

When she pushed the door open, the Wing King was standing behind his desk.

He held a folded book in his hand, his brows furrowed slightly, as if he were pondering some thorny matter.

Hearing her footsteps, the Wing King didn't even look up.

Shen knelt down with a thud.

The sound of his knee hitting the cold blue brick floor was muffled, like a pebble sinking into deep water.

"Your Highness."

Shen's voice trembled, but she tried to steady it.

"Please...please save my father."

The Wing King's fingers paused on the folds for a moment.

Then he continued turning the pages, as if dealing with a complete stranger.

"Don't worry about this."

His tone was very flat, so flat that it sounded like he was talking about someone else's business.

"The affairs of the imperial court are not for you to interfere with."

Shen crawled forward two steps on her knees.

She looked up, her face covered in tears.

She had never been so disheveled in her life.

A few strands of hair came loose as he ran, sticking to his wet cheeks, and his eyes were so red they looked like they were about to bleed.

She couldn't care less.

"Your Highness, there's a reason why my father embezzled!"

And you, you know best his predicament, don't you?

He served as Minister of Revenue for twenty years, and he was loyal to only you, his master. Those accounts—”

"I have spoken."

The Wing King finally raised his head, his gaze falling on her face, his tone still gentle, a gentleness that sent chills down one's spine.

.

"Don't worry about this."

Looking into his eyes, Shen suddenly felt like she didn't recognize him anymore.

This man was her husband, the one she had been eagerly anticipating entrusting her life to when she was seventeen.

The Wing King still looked as gentle and refined as ever, with clear features and a faint smile always playing on his lips.

But the look in those eyes was different.

There was no worry, no heartache, and not even impatience in it.

In his eyes, there was only a cold, calculated decision made after weighing the pros and cons.

Suddenly, Madam Shen remembered that she had come to see him when the news of the confiscation of her family's property had just spread.

What did he say back then?

"I have already sent people to investigate. You can go back and wait patiently."

He told her to wait, and she actually waited.

She waited two days, only to receive news of her dismissal and imprisonment.

"Your Highness..."

Shen's voice became even softer, as if afraid of startling something.

"My father is old and in poor health."

If he is sentenced to exile, he will surely die on the way.

My mother has never suffered any hardship in her life, and my younger sister is only fourteen years old...

She was only fourteen years old. If she were sent to the brothel, her life would be ruined.

I beg you, for the sake of my devoted service over the years, and for the sake of all the things my father has done for you—”

She reached out to hug the Wing King's leg.

But the moment her fingers touched the hem of the man's robe, he kicked them away.

That kick wasn't very forceful.

It's not that I can't bear to, it's that there's no need.

It's like kicking away a cat that's blocking your way; you can't even be bothered to look at it again.

Shen was kicked and fell to the ground, her forehead hitting the leg of the desk, leaving a red mark.

The Wing King stood up and looked down at her.

His voice remained calm, but beneath that calm lay a thin layer of anger.

She wasn't angry about her father's affairs, but because she was disobedient.

"I thought you were a person who understood the bigger picture, but I didn't expect you to be so clueless about the times!"

The Wing King straightened the hem of his robe that she hadn't touched, his tone as cold as if he were reprimanding an ignorant servant.

"The court will make its own decision regarding the Shen family's affairs."

If I were to step forward at this time, people would only seize upon this as a pretext to accuse me of bending the law for personal gain.

"You want me to sacrifice myself for your father?"

Shen lay on the ground, looking up at him, her lips moving.

She wanted to say, "That's your father-in-law."

I wanted to say, "How much of the money you've spent over the years came from your father?"

I want to say, "You said you would treat me well for the rest of my life."

But she couldn't say anything.

It was as if an invisible hand was gripping her throat, and she could only utter muffled sobs.

The Wing King looked at her, a hint of annoyance suddenly flashing in his eyes.

He turned around, picked up the teacup on the table, and took a slow sip.

It was as if they were giving Shen some time to process what he had said.

"This is the last time I'm saying this to you."

He didn't look at her; his voice came down from above her head, each word clear and distinct.

"You are not allowed to mention this matter again."

They are also not allowed to plead with anyone in private.

If I were to find out what you've done behind my back—

He paused, then placed the teacup back on the table, the porcelain making a soft sound as it tapped against the wooden surface.

"I will divorce you and send you to the brothel to reunite with your mother and sister."

Shen's pupils suddenly contracted.

The Imperial Music Bureau.

These three words were like a blunt knife, stabbing into her chest and twisting it violently.

He was her husband, the husband she had knelt before heaven and earth and her ancestors to worship.

He just said he wanted to be sent to the Jiaofangsi (a government-run entertainment institution).

Shen looked at him.

Looking at that gentle and refined face.

Looking at the calm and unhurried smile on his lips.

Looking into his calm and unwavering eyes.

Suddenly I realized that I've been blind all these years.

She remembered many things.

Remembering that his father hadn't approved of the marriage,

The father said that the Prince of Yi was "too deep in thought and unfathomable."

She doesn't believe it.

She recalled their wedding night when he lifted her veil, smiled at her, and said, "I will treat you well for the rest of my life."

She believed it.

Thinking back on all these years, she recalled how many scriptures she had copied for him.

At numerous banquets, he helped him win over the families of court officials.

Every time he got angry, she silently endured his cold words and occasional rudeness, not daring to utter a single word of grievance.

Her father meticulously arranged all the channels for allocating funds from the Ministry of Revenue for her.

Her mother sold the estate that was part of her dowry to support his soldiers.

His family is helping him.

Now, her father is in prison, her mother is in a secluded courtyard, and her younger sister faces the fate of being sold into a brothel.

He sat behind his desk, sipping tea, and told her not to worry about it!

Tell her not to cause him any trouble!

Tell her that if she doesn't behave, we'll send her in too!

Shen did not ask him for anything further.

She lay down on the ground, slowly lowered her head, and pressed her forehead against the cool blue bricks.

Tears streamed down her nose, dripping into the cracks between the bricks and leaving a small, dark stain.

She stopped talking.

The Wing King waited for a while, but she didn't speak again.

He straightened his sleeves and walked past her.

He bypassed her kneeling body, as if walking around an obstructive piece of old furniture.

The study door opened and closed, and his footsteps grew fainter and fainter.

The maid Qiuhe rushed in from outside, crying as she helped her up.

He used his sleeve to wipe the red mark on her forehead, saying as he did so:

"Your Highness, please don't do this. Get up quickly, the ground is cold."

Shen grabbed Qiuhe's arm, her nails digging into her sleeve, causing Qiuhe to gasp in pain.

But she didn't cry out loud.

She was trembling all over, her jaw clenched tightly, and tears welled up in her eyes, falling one by one onto Qiuhe's hand, burning hot.

She finally saw it clearly.

See clearly who she married.

See clearly what all those years of tenderness, affection, and marital bond really meant.

That's not affection, that's scheming!

She was merely a piece on her husband's chessboard.

Now that her family has lost its usefulness, this piece has become a discarded one.

Madam Shen remained kneeling on the ground, only managing to stay upright thanks to the support of her maid.

A voice kept echoing in her mind—"So I am nothing."

That night, Madam Shen sat in her room without lighting a lamp.

Moonlight filtered through the cracks in the window, casting pale silver streaks on the ground.

She sat on the edge of the bed, her hands clasped together on her knees, her nails digging into her palms.

The red mark was still on her forehead. Qiuhe applied a thin layer of ointment to it, which felt cool, but her heart was colder than the ointment.

The door was pushed open.

The Wing King stood at the door, his figure swaying slightly.

He had been drinking; his clothes were stained with alcohol, and his cheeks were flushed an unnaturally.