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

The imperial mausoleum is located in a valley in the western mountains on the outskirts of Beijing, far from any village or shop. The nearest market town is half a day's walk away.

Next to the imperial tomb is a row of low stone houses, which were for the servants who guarded the tomb.

The fourth prince's wife, Zhao, who was also stripped of her title, was placed in the innermost stone house.

The stone house is small. Right inside the door is the stove, and further inside is a kang (heated brick bed).

The bedding on the kang (heated brick bed) was new, but the imperial mausoleum was damp, and the mattress always felt damp to the touch, making it uncomfortable to lie on.

There were a few basic utensils on the stove.

An iron pot, two rough porcelain bowls, a pair of chopsticks, and a water ladle.

There was no kitchen knife, only a dull, broken one that couldn't even cut a radish.

There was a half-sack of coarse rice and a few wilted cabbages piled up in the corner.

They were the tomb guards, who delivered food every few days.

The fourth prince was allowed to keep one attendant; this was the old emperor's last act of mercy.

After all, he still has royal blood flowing through his veins.

But he couldn't keep his servants, so the only one he could keep was his former queen.

Lady Shen, daughter of the Vice Minister of Revenue.

He didn't marry her for her own good.

How could the daughter of a vice minister of the Ministry of Revenue be worthy of the most favored prince of the court in terms of family background?

But her father held the purse of the Ministry of Revenue, controlling all the taxes and silver in the country.

Marrying her would be like opening a back door in the Ministry of Revenue.

Over the years, he has maintained a staff, amassed a private army, bribed court officials, and privately manufactured weapons.

Which one of them doesn't cost money like water?

He couldn't even count the amount of money the Shen family had helped him amass.

But when the Shen family got into trouble, he didn't say a single word in his father-in-law's defense.

Not only did he not ask for anything, he was the first to submit a memorial requesting that the emperor severely punish Vice Minister Shen in order to prove his innocence.

He did all this without even blinking.

Madam Shen was standing in the flower hall of the Prince's mansion at the time, listening to him dictate the memorial.

Her father was exiled three thousand miles away, and her mother and sister were confiscated and sent to the Jiaofangsi (a government-run entertainment institution).

She stood in her husband's study without saying a word.

From that day on, the way she looked at him changed.

It's not hatred; hatred, at least, is something with warmth.

Her gaze was cold, like a stagnant pool, without a ripple.

The Fourth Prince had never seen such a look in his eyes before.

When Shen used to look at him, her charming peach blossom eyes were always filled with a layer of water, like the mist that couldn't be dispelled in spring.

But the woman in front of me had eyes as dry as a parched well.

Before he could react, a muffled thud came from the stove.

Madam Shen carried a bowl over and placed it on the low table in front of him.

It was a rough porcelain bowl, half-filled with grayish vegetable porridge.

The vegetable leaves were cut into varying sizes, the rice was half-cooked, and a layer of foam floated on the surface of the porridge.

The fourth prince glanced down at the mushy mess in the bowl and frowned.

"What is this thing?"

"...Vegetable porridge."

Shen's voice was very soft, as if it were squeezed out of her throat, without any extra emotion.

She used to be a pampered young lady who never lifted a finger.

After marrying into the royal family, she did absolutely nothing.

She didn't know how many times to rinse the rice, how to put the rice in the boiling water, or how to cut the vegetable leaves.

She threw everything she could find into the pot and cooked it.

Even she herself didn't really want to eat the food she cooked.

The fourth prince picked up his chopsticks and stirred the porridge. A piece of uncut vegetable root, about the thickness of a thumb, floated to the surface. It was half-cooked and had a raw, greenish smell.

He slammed his chopsticks on the table.

"Is this food for humans?"

His voice wasn't loud, but the condescending disdain was ingrained in his very being.

Even when reduced to poverty and reduced to the imperial mausoleum, his spirit remained undiminished.

"You can't even cook a bowl of porridge properly, you're so stupid, what else can you do?"

It's completely useless.

Shen stood to the side, her hands clasped in front of her, her fingers unconsciously twisting the hem of her clothes.

She offered no explanation, no apology, but simply turned her head slightly away.

My gaze fell on the drooping cabbages in the corner.

Her expression was quiet, so quiet it was unsettling.

The fourth prince waited for a moment, but did not receive the response he expected.

This was the woman who used to be so frightened by even a glare from him that she would kneel down and apologize.

Standing before him now, he was expressionless and silent.

There wasn't even a single "I know I was wrong" from her.

A surge of anger welled up inside him.

The fourth prince suddenly stood up, grabbed Shen's chin, and turned her face towards him.

He used tremendous force with his fingers, his knuckles digging into her cheekbone, causing her eyes to instantly redden with pain.

But she didn't utter a single word.

"What kind of attitude is that?"

The fourth prince's voice was squeezed out from between his teeth, each word dripping with venom.

"You dare to give me attitude?"

He grabbed Shen's chin, forcing her to tilt her face up.

But her gaze went past the man's shoulder and landed on the thin crack in the stone wall.

It seemed there was something there that was more worthy of her attention than the man in front of her.

She doesn't look at the fourth prince.

Or rather, she was looking at him but not really looking at him.

Her gaze passed through him and stopped at some point in the void.

"Serve me."

The fourth prince uttered only three words, a command that left no room for discussion.

Shen froze.

After so many years of marriage, she understood the meaning of those two words all too well.

It's not grinding ink, making the bed, or serving tea and water.

It's that matter.

When her father was exiled, her mother was forced into prostitution, and her sister's fate was unknown.

The fourth prince stood before her, demanding that she serve him.

A faint hint of resistance surfaced on Shen's face, like an undercurrent rising beneath the surface of water, but she quickly suppressed it.

But the fourth prince still saw it.

The man released her chin, grabbed her hair, and roughly dragged her toward the earthen bed.

Shen was pulled so hard that she stumbled a few steps, her knee hitting the edge of the kang with a dull thud.

She didn't cry out in pain, nor did she beg for mercy; she simply glanced at him with her lifeless eyes.

There was no hatred, no fear, and not even resentment in that glance.

There was only a chilling, resigned calm.

That calm was like a bucket of ice water poured on the Fourth Prince's anger, only making the fire burn even brighter.

He gritted his teeth and tore at Shen's clothes.

The coarse cloth in his hands made a grating tearing sound.

He pressed her down to the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed), one hand gripping her neck and the other holding the wine pot.

He had long developed a habit of being inseparable from alcohol.

That was cheap liquor drunk by the tomb guards, brewed from the cheapest sorghum. It smelled pungent and would give you a headache if you drank too much.

But this is all he has right now.

He bit off the cork with his teeth, took a big gulp, and the wine dripped down his chin, wetting his collar.

"I'll tell you."

The fourth prince slammed the wine pot down on the kang (a heated brick bed), and tightened his grip on her neck.

No matter how down on my luck I get, I'll still be your everything!

His thumb pressed against her throat, feeling the faint pulse below, feeling her instinctive struggle as she suffocated.

The struggle was very slight; the fingers merely curled weakly for a moment before stopping.

"You have no right to look down on me."

The fourth prince finished speaking slowly and deliberately, then released his grip and pressed her face into the kang (a heated brick bed), into the perpetually damp bedding.

Throughout the entire process, Ms. Shen remained completely silent.

She was once the most pampered of all the noble ladies in the capital.

She was afraid of the cold, pain, and thunder; even on snowy days, she needed her maid to warm her hands with a hand warmer before going out.

At this moment, she was pressed down in the damp bedding, the finger marks on her neck turning from red to purple, like a ring of branding marks, and she felt cold all over.

But she just wouldn't say a word.

Don't cry, don't beg, don't struggle.

Her eyes were wide open, staring at the mottled earthen wall in the corner of the kang (a heated brick bed), where a water stain had seeped out, resembling a blurry human figure.

She looked at the water stain, thinking of her exiled father, her mother and sister who had been sent to the brothel.

There's nothing she can do.

Her life has been worthless; she's just an empty shell now.

It was placed in this stone house, waiting for time to smooth everything over.

The fourth prince became even more furious when he saw that she neither resisted nor responded.

At that moment, he suddenly remembered the taste of the male prostitutes in his own mansion, and a cold smile curled at the corners of his lips.

"ah--"

Shen let out a scream, her whole body trembling with pain, but even more than the pain, she felt immense humiliation.

The Wing King was clearly pleased with her screams, and like a victor, he wantonly ravaged his possessions, completely disregarding Shen's feelings.

After an unknown amount of time, the fourth prince finally managed to leave.

He grabbed the wine jug and took another swig, then leaned against the wall by the kang (heated brick bed), closing his eyes and panting heavily, not even glancing at her.