Transmigrated into the body of the vicious first wife of a fallen prime minister

Qi He lay on her sickbed so long that moss was almost growing on her.

A few days ago, she insisted that Shang Jue find her some storybooks. Now that the storybooks have been found, she is snuggled in her blankets and reading them with great relish.

"What?! That son-in-law actually managed to get an invitation from the Marquis of Zhenbei!" Shang Xiaojue sneered, raising an eyebrow with a wicked glint in his eye. "I'd rather not stay in the Qi family! It's laughable that you're all blind, not even recognizing the true Ziwei War God!"

Qi He, with great emotion, changed the name of the useless son-in-law in the storybook to Shang Jue without permission.

Shang Jue was sitting to the side organizing the accounts. Hearing this, he raised his eyes but remained silent.

Qi He read on with even more enthusiasm: "Just as Shang Xiaojue stepped out of the Qi family gate, there was a sudden sound—thud thud thud thud! Dozens of iron cavalry descended from the sky! Hundreds of elite soldiers, armed with swords, stared at Shang Xiaojue with fanatical eyes and shouted in unison: 'Welcome the God of War! Welcome the God of War! Welcome the God of War!'"

As she read, she gestured with her arms, bringing the immersive reading to life.

The Qi family members were utterly shocked! Shang Xiaojue laughed loudly, causing the earth to shake! His attendants announced: "Young Master Qi once helped the God of War heal his younger sister, and was rewarded with a fine steed!" "Third Miss Qi once spoke on behalf of the God of War, and was rewarded with a pair of pearl hairpins!" "As for the Second Miss Qi—"

Shang Jue was so annoyed by her that he couldn't even concentrate on the account books, so he simply put down his pen and leaned to the side to watch her act.

Qi He felt a little embarrassed by his gaze, so she coughed and fell silent.

Shang Jue raised an eyebrow: "Not studying anymore?"

Qi He took a sip of tea: "I'm thirsty, let me rest for a bit."

She was simply bored and wanted to find some amusement in business, but a bad feeling was creeping into her heart.

Shang Jue's raised eyebrow clearly conveyed the meaning of "you just wait and see."

Is this some kind of setup to settle scores later?

Qi He was sipping her tea when Shang Jue suddenly picked up the storybook she had borrowed, quickly flipped through a few pages, selected a passage, and began to read it aloud in a calm voice: "Qi Xiaohe had an oval face, arched willow-leaf eyebrows, almond-shaped eyes that were misty and smoky, small lips as red as cherry petals, slightly trembling breasts, a slender waist, and a graceful figure. She wore a light red silk dress, over which was a black satin vest, and on her feet were a pair of crimson embroidered shoes..."

"You ungrateful man! I hate you so much, but seeing the tears in your eyes feels like my heart is being ripped out. I want you to be stained with my scent, and you'll never escape my grasp for the rest of your life." With that, he ripped it open—

Qi He spat out a mouthful of tea and pounced on Shang Jue, exclaiming, "You're a pervert!"

"How could you pick out this passage so precisely from thousands of pages of a storybook!"

Help! This is so embarrassing!

That bastard is so vengeful! How can he read such shameful things with such a cold face?

Even a modern person like her can't stand it!

Who exactly said our ancestors were very reserved?

Qi He stared at him, her cheeks flushed red, her lips still glistening with moisture from drinking tea.

Shang Jue was also quite shocked by that passage, but his photographic memory forced him to memorize those descriptions, which kept swirling in his mind.

He lowered his eyes, his gaze falling on Qi He's lips, and the two of them simultaneously recalled the phrase "her small lips are as red as cherry blossoms."

Qi He buried her face in the blankets: "I'm not playing anymore, I admit defeat."

Shang Jue: "Isn't this surrender?"

"We're only in a strategic stalemate right now, don't get too cocky!" Qi He rolled over sullenly. "Besides, what an ugly combination it is to wear a light red silk skirt with a black vest and crimson embroidered shoes! Has the person who wrote this story ever seen a woman before?"

Shang Jue paused for a moment: "It looks terrible?"

"Of course! If you put that on the streets of Nanjing, people would laugh at you from beginning to end."

Shang Jue was silent for a moment, then calmly said, "I think it's alright."

Qi He threw the pillow at him.

Straight men's aesthetic sense is truly beyond saving.

Ever since that debate over storybooks, Qi He has come to a complete understanding of one thing: Shang Jue may seem cold and taciturn, but he is actually quite sly and holds grudges.

Having been kept under Shang Jue's nose for more than half a month, eating bland and tasteless food, Qi He was so tired of lying down that she wanted to die.

Before we knew it, it was already December.

Qi He hadn't been to the martial arts school or practiced diving for over half a month, and the guilt in her heart was almost overwhelming.

Is she not practicing swimming?

She lost her own life!

Moreover, in the past half month, Qi Zheng has been sending tonics to Qianjinlou in a continuous stream, and Shang Jue has also been making all sorts of so-called nourishing meals.

When Qi He was finally allowed to leave, her once-firm waistline, which she had worked so hard to achieve, turned back into a soft, flabby shape.

I don't want to live anymore.

The day before the winter solstice, Qi He finally found an excuse to run away from Qianjin Tower for some fresh air.

The martial arts master, seeing her, smiled and said, "Second Miss has finally arrived!"

She added, "Your tuition fees for this year will be settled by the end of the month. If you want to come again next year, remember to renew them at the counter."

Qi He said, "I'll continue now."

The master readily agreed, and then asked, "How about extending it for another year? A year would be more cost-effective."

Qi He gave a fake smile, silently counting down the days in her mind, and finally only extended the contract for another six months.

The master was somewhat puzzled; this Miss Qi wasn't exactly short of money...

Qi He thought to herself that she would be gone in six months, so what was the point of continuing her life? She might as well save some money to prolong her life.

After practicing at the martial arts gym all day, Qi He finally managed to catch up on some of the skills he had missed over the past half month.

As she stepped outside in the evening, a gust of cold wind swept over her. Looking up, she saw that the sycamore trees along the street had already shed all their leaves, leaving only bare branches stretching towards the gray sky.

Before we knew it, another winter had arrived.

Qi He was usually carefree, but the thought that her death was only six months away made her feel a pang of sadness as she looked at the desolate scenery.

But her sadness lasted only a moment before her gaze was drawn to the branches of winter plum blossoms hanging in front of a shop on the street.

It's the winter solstice already.

She took out a piece of paper from her sleeve and drew a small scene on the empty street corner, carefully depicting the winter plum blossom.

After thinking about it for a while, for reasons unknown, she sealed the painting only for Shang Jue.

The signature read "Winter," and a picture of a winter plum blossom was added.

After having someone deliver it, she put her hands back in her sleeves and strolled slowly through the streets and alleys.

The atmosphere of the Winter Solstice in Nanjing is already very strong. Red paper lanterns are hung everywhere on the streets, and the sweet aroma of glutinous rice balls wafts in the air.

When Shang Jue received the painting, the accounts in the business had just been reconciled.

Several managers were still waiting inside, and Shang Jue propped his chin up and stared at the unremarkable drawing for a long time.

Qi He usually sends either designs for jewelry or a painting of winter plum blossoms; it's rare to find one like this, with just a single winter plum blossom and no color added.

This style doesn't quite fit her meticulous and perfectionist nature.

Shang Jue's keen intuition, honed through his business dealings, told him that something was amiss with this painting.

"I have a question for you." After a moment of silence in the shop, Shang Jue slowly spoke, "If... your fiancée sent you a note with an unclear meaning, what does it mean?"

The people in the room looked at each other, and the same thought simultaneously popped into their minds—

It must be the second young lady, it's definitely the second young lady!

Zhao Niangzi was the first to speak: "Manager, what kind of stationery is it?"

Shang Jue spread the painting on the table, and everyone gathered around, examining the solitary plum blossom painting for a long time.

"Nothing special, just a flower." This was Manager Zhou of the weaving workshop, a rough man in his forties who didn't understand romance.

"Are you feeling cold? You should put on another layer of clothing." This was Mr. Sun, the accountant, who was in his early thirties and slightly overweight.

"The plum blossom painting is quite good, Miss, you have excellent skills..." This was Steward Liu, who was in charge of the carriages and horses. He was having a quarrel with his wife and had not yet found the root of the problem.

Everyone offered their opinions, but no one could come to a satisfactory conclusion.

In the corner, the new waiter spoke up timidly, "Today is the Winter Solstice. Is the Second Miss perhaps hinting to the head manager to go and keep her company?"

The room was quiet for a moment.

Shang Jue remained expressionless: "How did you figure that out?"

The young shop assistant mustered his courage and said, "The plum blossom on the drawing paper is drawn in detail, and the word 'winter' is written at the bottom. Usually, young ladies give food or embroidery as gifts for festivals. If they only give a drawing paper without a signature, and only draw a flower that is appropriate for the season, then it means they want to make an appointment."

He thought for a moment and added, "This painting is only for the head manager, because the paintings that the second young lady usually sends are all exquisitely drawn, but this one is only painted with a few strokes, and it looks like it was painted for one person."

After the young waiter finished speaking, he silently looked around at everyone.

"I was just guessing."

The people inside the room looked at each other in bewilderment.

What's wrong with young people these days?

Could he be a gossip by trade? That's truly terrifying.

Shang Jue tapped his knuckles on the table, picked up a brush and ink, and wrote back a short note: "Where is it?"

After thinking for a moment, he added, "I'll come pick you up."

He put down his pen and had someone deliver it.

When Zhao Niangzi saw the reply, she couldn't help but gasp in amazement; the head manager's actions were indeed swift and efficient.

But the messenger is right here; why doesn't the head manager just go with him? Why do we need to ask again...?

Shang Jue put on a cloak and stood up. Manager Zhou followed behind, asking, "Manager, are tomorrow's accounts correct?"

Shang Jue didn't even turn his head: "We'll talk about it tomorrow."

As I pushed open the door, the red paper lanterns under the eaves were swaying slightly in the wind, reflecting the thin layer of snow that had just fallen in front of the door.