Chapter 77

Ten days can feel short or long, but to Cheng Ruyi, the time flew by entirely too fast. During this period, she even found time to attend Luo Fei’s wedding.

But for the house-arrested Cheng Qingyao, the days dragged on like agonizing years.

She had attempted to break out of the Marquis of Jian’an’s estate on three or four separate occasions. Yet every single time she was on the absolute precipice of success, someone would magically discover her, turning her fleeting joy into a crushing disappointment. Consequently, her surveillance grew tighter by the day.

Naturally, a substantial portion of this was Rong Mo’s handiwork. Even the private correspondence Cheng Qingyao had been secretly exchanging with the Heir Apparent of Prince Wei had been explicitly leaked to the Marchioness of Jian’an by his operatives.

The Marchioness was already terrified that Cheng Qingyao would court further disaster, and she was desperately racking her brains for an opportunity to marry her off. Armed with these letters, the Marchioness paid a personal visit to the Consort of Prince Wei. Factoring in Chu Yuan’s relentless throwing of tantrums—swearing up and down that he would rather die than marry anyone other than Cheng Qingyao—the Consort of Prince Wei was ultimately forced to pinch her nose and accept Cheng Qingyao as her son’s official side-consort.

If one were to ask who detested Cheng Qingyao the absolute most in this world, it was none other than the Consort of Prince Wei.

Cheng Qingyao had initially only intended to keep Chu Yuan dangling on her string; she hadn’t harbored the slightest intention of actually marrying him. Finding herself systematically forced into this marriage alliance, she was left thoroughly consumed by fury.

She spent every waking moment plotting her escape.

Regrettably, Rong Mo had absolutely no intention of letting her secure her heart’s desire.

Cheng Ruyi patiently bided her time until the very night before the grand wedding. Waiting until darkness fell, she quietly slipped into Cheng Qingyao’s bedchambers—and this time around, she hadn’t brought Rong Mo along.

Relying on her immensely powerful mental energy, she effortlessly bypassed every guard on the perimeter. She even systematically induced a profound coma in every night-shift maid and matron stationed within the chambers. Looking down at Cheng Qingyao, who was currently snoring away so deeply on the bed that even an earthquake wouldn’t wake her, a distinctly wicked smile curled the corners of Cheng Ruyi’s mouth.

With a crisp shuck , she drew a razor-sharp miniature dagger from her waistband.

Cheng Qingyao’s long tresses had been meticulously maintained; they were not only pitch-black and radiant, but incredibly smooth. Cheng Ruyi smiled maliciously, grabbing a fistful of her dark locks. The dagger flashed in the dim light, snip, snip, snip , clean-severing the hair.

Handful after handful of dark silk was systematically lopped off by Cheng Ruyi…

Until finally, only a scattering of short, stubby fuzz remained.

“A good deed should be seen through to the absolute end. Let me just shave it completely bare for you—it’ll look infinitely cleaner that way.”

Cheng Ruyi murmured to herself, her hands never pausing for a fraction of a second. Enhanced by her mental energy, the head-shaving process was executed with blistering speed and flawless precision. Within a handful of minutes, Cheng Qingyao’s skull was rendered massive, smooth, and extraordinarily shiny.

Considering Cheng Ruyi had literally yanked out the hair follicles themselves, it would be a miracle if it weren’t shiny.

Cheng Ruyi was fundamentally a wicked little thing. By ripping the hair follicles directly from Cheng Qingyao’s scalp, she ensured that while the hair would eventually regenerate down the line, the process would be immensely difficult and agonizingly slow.

“Now all that’s left is to brand the six dots.”

Cheng Ruyi murmured, looking over her handiwork with immense satisfaction.

To maximize efficiency, Cheng Ruyi directly produced a specially formulated vial of indelible black ink. This ink would never fade, nor could it ever be washed away; it was the absolute perfect medium for dotting the six ordination marks.

Before long, two parallel rows of tiny black dots materialized vividly across Cheng Qingyao’s forehead.

Tomorrow, Cheng Qingyao was going to be a completely bald, ordained bride.

Cheng Ruyi chuckled softly to herself. After taking a brief moment to thoroughly admire her flawless masterpiece, she vanished into the night as silently as a ghost.

Behind her, she left a floor entirely blanketed in severed hair.

Upon returning to the Prince Rong Estate, she noticed the candles inside their bedchambers were still flickering warmly. It appeared her dear Mo hadn’t retired to sleep yet; he was explicitly staying up to wait for her.

The moment Cheng Ruyi stepped inside, she caught sight of Rong Mo, attired in a pale yellow sleeping robe, reclining lazily against the headboard while casually flipping through a manuscript.

The soft candlelight cast a warm, breathtaking glow across his handsome features.

“Mo, I’m back!”

Cheng Ruyi’s bubbly, exuberant voice echoed through the room.

Rong Mo set his manuscript aside, turning a warm, highly amused gaze toward her: “All finished with your errands?”

Cheng Ruyi shed her stealthy black garments, changing into a vibrant crimson nightgown. She scrambled onto the bed alongside Rong Mo, wrapping her arms securely around his firm, powerful waist as she gleefully detailed the entire process of how she had shaved Cheng Qingyao’s head bare.

“Mo, tomorrow morning when Cheng Qingyao wakes up and lays eyes on the grand wedding gift I personally custom-delivered to her, do you suppose she’ll faint clean away from pure joy?”

“She will undoubtedly find it an extraordinary surprise!”

Rong Mo chuckled softly as he finished speaking. Reaching out, he swept down the cascading layers of gossamer bed curtains, pulling his little wife tightly into his arms as they tumbled onto the mattress together, sealing her crimson lips to initiate their mandatory, blissfully harmonious daily exercise.

The following morning, Rong Mo reclined half-propped against the headboard, his sleeping robe loosely draped to expose a glimpse of his firm, sculpted chest. He offered a deeply adoring smile as he watched his exceptionally hyperactive little wife.

“Ruyi, no need to rush. The Marquis of Jian’an’s estate is in all likelihood in an absolute state of chaotic pandemonium right now.”

Cheng Ruyi mumbled under her breath: “I’m not rushing. I just desperately want to witness Cheng Qingyao’s raw reaction the exact second she discovers she’s been turned into a bald monk.”

“Rest assured, she won’t disappoint you. Do not forget, she is the bride today; her every single movement is being heavily scrutinized by the entire public,” Rong Mo noted, highly amused by his fiercely impatient little wife.

“Mo, do you suppose Cheng Qingyao might fail to survive the psychological trauma and attempt suicide?” Cheng Ruyi suddenly thought of the possibility, inquiring out of pure curiosity.

Rong Mo let out a soft chuckle, his tone absolute: “Not a chance. A woman of her caliber values her own life above all else. Even if she were to lose her absolute chastity, she would still fiercely cling to survival. Only by remaining alive does one possess a viable window to turn the tables.”

The exact moment Cheng Qingyao woke from her slumber and discovered her skull had been shaved entirely bare, her eyes nearly split from raw fury. She became utterly hysterical, hovering on the absolute precipice of a total psychological breakdown.

With the grand wedding literally imminent, her entire head of dark silk had been systematically shorn clean off—what on earth would the outside world think?

Was this a deliberate, public mockery of the Prince Wei Estate?

If this were any other high-born noblewoman, she would have long since chosen death to preserve her honor.

But having experienced reincarnation, Cheng Qingyao valued her own life infinitely more than anyone else. Even an ant would struggle to survive; she was in the absolute prime of her youth, so it was physically impossible for her to seek her own death simply because someone had lopped off her hair.

She could only steel her nerves against the deeply bizarre, unsettling stares of the attendants, forcing an aura of absolute composure as she permitted the older matrons to begin her bridal cosmetics.

The sharp, thinly veiled mockery flowing from her concubine-born younger sisters only served to deepen the humiliation.

Deep inside her chest, Cheng Qingyao felt an overwhelming, suffocating sense of degradation.

Cheng Ruyi… Cheng Ruyi! Just you wait—one day, I am going to slaughter you with my own two hands!

That’s right; Cheng Qingyao instinctively pinned this entire atrocity onto Cheng Ruyi’s head.

Even if, for once, her deduction was entirely accurate.

Regrettably, not a single soul believed her version of the story.

The entire populace was well aware that Cheng Qingyao had a sordid history of maliciously framing and slandering Cheng Ruyi. They didn’t buy a single syllable traveling out of her mouth, even whispering behind her back that she was a deeply petty, narrow-minded creature who simply couldn’t bear to see others thrive.

The rumors circulating outside grew exceptionally vulgar and vicious.

The narrative spreading like wildfire was that Cheng Qingyao deeply loathed the Heir Apparent of Prince Wei, and had intentionally shaved her head bald as a deliberate, calculated stunt to disgust him on their wedding day.

The Marchioness of Jian’an was pushed to the absolute verge of an aneurysm. Believing that Cheng Qingyao had intentionally taken the tonsure as a radical protest to spite her, she completely washed her hands of this newly reclaimed daughter.

She had initially intended to pad her bridal dowry with a few extra crates of treasures, but she completely lost the inclination now, ordering the attendants to strictly adhere to the bare-minimum protocols allocated for a royal side-consort.

Naturally, the rapid escalation of these rumors was heavily engineered by Cheng Wanru and the various other noble targets Cheng Qingyao had systematically sabotaged in the past.

Everyone was well aware that the Heir Apparent of Prince Wei cherished Cheng Qingyao.

They explicitly wanted to drive a massive wedge between the couple, poisoning their affection from the very outset and ensuring the entire core family of Prince Wei grew to utterly loathe Cheng Qingyao’s presence.

As the hour of her departure drew near, Cheng Qingyao endured the blistering humiliation of having a wig pinned to her bare skull before dropping the crimson bridal veil over her face. Even though she was merely entering the household as a side-consort, Chu Yuan had still extended her the grand dignity and face typically reserved for a primary legal wife.

Arriving to collect his bride, Chu Yuan was certainly not deaf to the chaotic, roaring rumors consuming the streets. It wasn’t that he didn’t care; rather, this was his choice. Yet beneath it all, a sliver of resentment toward Cheng Qingyao inevitably took root in his heart.

If she truly detested marrying him to such an extreme degree, she could have simply communicated it to him beforehand, and he would have happily canceled the alliance.

What was the point of executing such an explicitly disgusting stunt to humiliate him?

There were barely ten days remaining before the winter season drew to an absolute close. Under normal circumstances, everyone was frantically occupied with harvesting ice blocks, and most joyous occasions were systematically deferred to a later date; civilian interest in a royal heir acquiring a mere side-consort should have been practically non-existent.

But Cheng Qingyao’s stunt of shaving her head bare the night before her wedding was a historical anomaly—an unprecedented event that might never be replicated. The entire populace of the capital took a rare day off from their labors just to witness the spectacle.

They desperately wanted to see why this legal daughter of the Marquis of Jian’an—who possessed a legendary track record for creative self-destruction—had chosen to tonsure her entire head of dark silk on the eve of her nuptials, effectively dragging the Heir Apparent’s dignity through the mud.

Could it be that the Heir Apparent of Prince Wei is actually hideously deformed or grotesque to look at?

The gossip-hungry citizens let their imaginations run completely wild, inventing all sorts of bizarre theories.

Chu Yuan rarely made personal appearances before the common populace, so very few citizens knew his true countenance. This naturally birthed an absolute mountain of wild speculation.

However, this particular theory was instantly shattered.

The moment the citizens witnessed the Heir Apparent of Prince Wei riding toward the estate atop a majestic, high-stepping stallion, the crowd fell into a brief, stunned silence before erupting into a frenzy of chatter.

“The Heir Apparent of Prince Wei is spectacularly handsome! To think that Miss Cheng Qingyao actually looked down on him—just how absurdly high are her standards?”

“Exactly! I genuinely assumed the Heir Apparent was some sort of hideous monster, which was why the eldest Miss intentionally chose to drag his reputation through the dirt time and again. Who could have foreseen… I honestly don’t know what on earth is rattling around inside that woman’s skull.”

“Tell me about it! That eldest Miss’s reputation was ruined to the absolute core ages ago. To be able to climb the social ladder and secure a match with such an outstanding royal heir, she ought to be weeping with gratitude. Don’t tell me she’s still harboring delusions of becoming the primary consort?”

“Perhaps she truly couldn’t stomach the drop in status. I heard this eldest Miss was originally officially betrothed to the Heir Apparent as his primary wife, but she completely sabotaged her own hand through her relentless antics.”

“This Heir Apparent of Prince Wei truly possesses terrible taste in women!”

“Abysmal taste!”

“Oh, hush now, don’t be so harsh. At the very least, that eldest Miss possesses a stunning face and a spectacular figure. Even if her reputation is in the gutter, it’s no wonder the Heir Apparent couldn’t bear to let her go.”

“…”

Disguised thoroughly amidst the churning crowd of commoners, Cheng Ruyi and Rong Mo listened to the ongoing commentary, taking immense delight in the distinctly strained, forced smile plastering the face of the horse-bound Heir Apparent.

It appeared the precise narrative effect she had been angling for had been perfectly achieved.

I wonder if these two lovebirds will grow to utterly revile the sight of each other down the line.

Once the Heir Apparent successfully retrieved Cheng Qingyao from the Marquis of Jian’an’s estate, accompanied by the festive clanging of gongs and the thumping of drums, the bridal sedan chair was paraded all the way to the side gates of the Prince Wei Estate. Since Cheng Qingyao had thoroughly dragged Prince Wei’s reputation through the mud, the estate naturally had absolutely no intention of extending her any public face.

The citizens who had tracked the procession all the way across the city grew immensely thrilled upon witnessing this setup.

To host a grand wedding ceremony that rivaled a primary wife’s scale, yet force her to cross the threshold through the literal side gate—it was glaringly obvious that the Prince Wei Estate harbored immense dissatisfaction toward this Miss Cheng Qingyao.

This entire wedding had transformed into an absolute public laughingstock; it would have been infinitely better not to host it at all.

This time around, Chu Yuan surprisingly raised no voice of protest against his mother’s administrative arrangements.

Had the head-shaving scandal never materialized, Chu Yuan would have undoubtedly thrown a massive tantrum to secure her entrance through the main gates. But there were no ‘ifs’ in reality. Cheng Qingyao’s stunt had effectively ground his personal pride directly into the dirt; he could barely fathom just how many peers were currently laughing at his expense behind closed doors.

“Alight from the sedan!” a sharp, high-pitched voice rang out.

Chu Yuan expressionlessly executed the traditional protocols—firing the ceremonial arrows and kicking the sedan door—before stepping aside to wait for Cheng Qingyao to emerge.

Completely oblivious to the trap awaiting her, Cheng Qingyao stepped out of the bridal sedan under the firm, guiding support of the matchmaking matron.

She was even secretly assuring herself that the moment she crossed into the Prince Wei Estate, she could finally let out a massive sigh of relief.

But would Cheng Ruyi ever permit her to slip inside so effortlessly?

She had explicitly stated that she was going to deliver a wedding ceremony she would remember for the rest of her literal life; naturally, a proper performance required a spectacular finale.

The precise instant Cheng Qingyao took her first step out of the sedan, a sudden, overwhelming wave of dizziness struck her brain. She tripped entirely out of nowhere, tumbling forward flat onto the ground. Through an extraordinary stroke of coincidence, both the crimson bridal veil and the wig pinned to her skull flew clean off, instantly exposing a spectacularly reflective, bald head to the open air.

Not to mention the six immensely prominent, pitch-black ordination dots branded vividly across her forehead.

The surrounding crowd fell into an absolute, pin-drop silence for a fraction of a second before erupting into a deafening, earth-shattering roar of laughter.

Is this Miss Cheng Qingyao attempting to officially take her vows and join a Buddhist nunnery?

Even as they howled with laughter, an overwhelming wave of deep sympathy washed over the crowd for the explicitly livid, stone-faced Heir Apparent.

With her bald skull completely exposed beneath the bright light of day, every single ounce of color drained from Cheng Qingyao’s face. The whispering voices and deeply contemptuous glares of the surrounding populace pierced her heart like a thousand needles, leaving her entirely choked by a toxic cocktail of fury and blinding humiliation.

In her entire life across two lifetimes, she had never once endured such a grotesque degradation.

She wanted nothing more than to faint dead away on the spot.

Thus, deciding to go all the way, she seized the momentum to fake an instant loss of consciousness, slumping heavily onto the ground.

“Miss!” Qiu Lan let out a frantic shriek.

The surrounding attendants panicked, genuinely believing she had lost consciousness.

Yet in the next heartbeat, Cheng Qingyao let out a blood-curdling screech of agony, springing a full three feet into the air like a startled rabbit.

The crowd erupted into yet another thunderous wave of roaring laughter.

This time around, Cheng Qingyao had lost every single shred of face and dignity she possessed. Her skin flushed a violent crimson from deep shame and blinding fury; she wanted nothing more than for the earth to physically split open a fissure right beneath her feet so she could crawl inside and hide forever.

Chu Yuan stared dead at Cheng Qingyao’s gleaming, hairless skull, his eyes veins pulsing with a terrifying, blood-red tint. Finally, utilizing his raw strength, he violently ripped away his own crimson groom’s robes, hurling the silk fiercely onto the dirt as he issued a freezing command.

“Deliver the side-consort straight to the Yilan Courtyard.”

The moment the words left his lips, Chu Yuan abandoned Cheng Qingyao entirely, striding into the Prince Wei Estate without turning back a single time.

He left Cheng Qingyao attired in her brilliant crimson bridal robes, shivering violently all by herself in the biting winter wind, forced to endure the relentless, mocking laughter of the entire capital.

Thoroughly camouflaged amidst the sea of commoners, Cheng Ruyi’s shoulders shook violently, completely losing her mind with hysterical laughter.

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