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Poisonous Consort Qian Mian: Darkened Husband
墨書 Inktalez
The red candle crackled, bursting into sparks. I jolted upright from the intricately carved bed, my back drenched in cold sweat.
A buzzing filled my ears, as if countless voices were tearing at my mind—
" Wan'er, the the Xiao Family is a den of wolves; you must keep a close eye on Xiao Jingyan's private accounts..."
"Miss, this golden silk honey date cake was personally made by the Madam for you to take on your journey..."
"Su Wan, you are merely an informant sent by the the Su Family; do you really think you are Madam Xiao?"
Fragments of memories pierced my temples, and I clenched the bedding tightly, my knuckles turning white.
This was not a dream.
Those tattered pages, hasty annotations, and the ending in which "Su Wan" was poisoned now burned like a prophecy etched in my mind.
"Miss... no, Madam, it’s time to drink Union Wine."
The maid Qing Zhu trembled as she handed me a jade cup, her voice barely above a whisper.
The flickering candlelight cast shadows over the old scar on her forehead—one I had caused when I knocked over the candlestick while playing at the age of eight, and she had rushed to shield me.
I stared at the swaying reflection in the cup—Phoenix Crown and Cloud Robe, with delicate features.
Wasn’t she just the foolish supporting character who got poisoned in the story?
"Su Wan, did you truly believe that marrying into the the Xiao Family would elevate your status?"
Xiao Jingyan's cold laughter echoed in my memory like a poisonous needle stabbing into my temple, causing sharp pain.
In the original story, this powerful husband would personally pour poison down "my" throat three years later before turning to marry his lost love, Liu Ru Yan.
"Qing Zhu," I gripped the bedding embroidered with golden threads tightly, my knuckles pale. "Steal the keys to the storeroom."
"But... but tonight is your wedding night..." Qing Zhu's voice trembled with a hint of tears.
"Wedding night my foot!" I yanked off my bridal veil and slammed it onto the dragon and phoenix candles.
The flames leaped up with a hiss, illuminating the cold light in my eyes.
"Xiao Jingyan is currently kneeling in the imperial study begging for a title for Liu Ru Yan; am I supposed to sit here waiting for him to come back and kill me?"
As soon as I finished speaking, hurried footsteps echoed from the corridor.
Qing Zhu's face turned pale as she stammered, "It... it’s the master!"
I swiftly pushed her into the cedar wardrobe, grabbed the Union Wine, and splashed a good portion onto my skirt before rolling into the brocade quilt, pretending to faint.
“Bang—” The door was kicked open with a loud crash.
I coughed weakly a couple of times and called out softly, “Husband… this wine is so strong…”
Xiao Jingyan stood there in his dark official robes, damp from the night dew, looking down at me with a cold gaze, as if he were staring at a venomous snake ready to strike.
“Su Wan.” He grasped my chin, his fingertips colder than a knife’s edge. “Your father sent you into the the Xiao Family to keep an eye on me, didn’t he?”
My nails dug painfully into my palm, almost making me faint from the hurt.
Oh, original owner, how blind you must be to fall for such a dog of a man!
“Husband is joking,” I lowered my eyelids and forced out two tears. “I wouldn’t dare to step on even an ant, how could I…”
“Better that way.” He suddenly released me, and as he turned, the hem of his robe knocked over the wine jug, spilling liquid all over the floor.
“Be a good Madam Xiao; perhaps you’ll live a little longer.”
The door slammed shut again with such force that it made the beams of the room hum.
Qing Zhu trembled as she crawled out from the wardrobe, her voice choked with tears. “Madam, what do we do now?”
I wiped away the traces of tears from my face and pulled out my private Salt Merchant contract from under the pillow, letting out a cold laugh.
“What good is crying? Tomorrow morning, go to the docks and sell this batch of goods at a high price to the grain merchants in Yangzhou—remember to use the the Xiao Family banner.”
“But… but private salt is a death penalty!” Qing Zhu’s face turned even paler with fear.
“Xiao Jingyan would love nothing more than for me to die. Instead of waiting for death, I’d rather squeeze every last bit of his influence.” I bit into a piece of osmanthus cake; its sweet taste stifled the bloody taste rising in my throat.
“Remember, money is your talisman for survival.”
As the midnight bell rang, I stared at the numbers in the ledger, a cold smile creeping onto my lips.
Xiao Jingyan, which do you think is faster—your blade or my pile of silver?
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