A Widow’s Bargain

The Ling family's main hall was thick with tension.

Ling Xiuying sat stiffly in her seat, hands folded neatly in her lap—or at least, as neatly as she could manage without fidgeting.

Across from her, her two half-sisters, Ling Meifeng and Ling Shuyi, exchanged glances, their lips curled in poorly concealed amusement. Tao Tao had mentioned their names in passing, and Ling Xiuying was able to place them now.

Sitting beside them was their mother, Concubine Wan, her expression carefully neutral, though her fingers tapped impatiently against the table. Tao Tao had also told her about Concubine Wan's tendency to act calm on the surface, but always be scheming beneath. 

Ling Xiuying turned her head.

At the head of the table, Ling Renshu—her father—sighed like a deflating whoopee cushion. His graying hair and weary gaze made him look older than his years. Though his expression remained neutral, there was a softness in his eyes—kind, but passive, he was clearly a man burdened by his position.

Ling Renshu sighed again (apparently his favorite hobby). "It is an imperial decree. The seventh prince requires a wife, and our family has been chosen by the emperor himself."

Silence.

Ling Xiuying's chopsticks hovered over a piece of steamed fish.

Seventh Prince?

"...And?" The woman who had slapped her awake seven days ago, prompted. Apparently, this pragmatic woman was the original's mother and the righteous wife, Lady Li. Her voice was steady but strained, clearly not as indifferent as she appeared.

Ling Renshu's face darkened. "And we have no choice."

A murmur rippled through the table.

Ling Xiuying's younger, teenage brother and heir, Ling Zihan, clenched his fists. "Father, surely there must be—"

"There is nothing," Ling Renshu interrupted, voice strained. "We are a minor family. To refuse would be treason."

Ling Xiuying chewed slowly, absorbing the information along with the slightly overcooked fish.

A young and cute girl on her left sniffled softly, the original sister, Ling Xiaolian, her round eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "But Father... the seventh prince... he.."

"Enough," their mother, Lady Li, interrupted sharply. "We do not speak ill of the imperial family."

Ling Xiuying hummed internally. Well, this was awkward. She had been expecting a life-threatening scenario, a hideous husband, or some terrible punishment, but besides the identity of him being a prince, no one had actually said anything useful yet...

The half-sister duo exchanged glances before one of them, Ling Shuyi, covered her mouth with a handkerchief and giggled, her eyes glinting with a hint of malice. "At least big sister will be a princess, even if it's in name only."

Wait. What? Name only?

Ling Xiuying blinked.

The other girl, Ling Meifeng, also nodded, smirking. "But still, I must admire your courage. To marry someone who already has one foot in the grave... truly, what devotion!"

Ling Xiuying nearly choked on her tea.

Holy shit, is my fiancé.. the seventh prince... dying?

Ling Xiaolian's soft voice trembled, but there was a spark of defiance as she turned to glare at her half-sisters. "You speak as if he's already dead! But do you even know the truth?" she challenged, her voice rising, though still delicate. "The Seventh Prince isn't some frail man wasting away—he led one hundred men against a thousand in battle, and he won!" Her eyes shone with determination as she turned to Ling Xiuying. "So, sister, if the Seventh Prince could defy such impossible odds, surely he can overcome this as well!"

Her voice, though small, was filled with a purity and hope that contrasted sharply with the cynical remarks around her.

Ling Meifeng scoffed. "Win? He may have won the battle, but did he win the war against death? The Seventh Prince suffered a grave injury to his head. He has been in a coma for three months!"

Ling Shuyi added. "The imperial physicians have already declared that his chances of waking up are close to none. Some say the palace should be preparing his funeral, not his wedding."

Concubine Wan sighed dramatically, shaking her head. "Such a pity. He was once the empire's greatest talent—praised for his military prowess, his wisdom, his unmatched swordsmanship… And yet, what good is it now? He has no wife, no children, and soon, no life."

Oh!

Ling Xiuying blinked as a wave of enlightenment hit her. So THAT was why the original owner had been so devastated! The girl hadn't been betrothed to some cruel warlord or perverted old man—she was about to become a widow before she even got to be a bride!

To any ancient noblewoman, this was equivalent to a lifetime of suffering. Being a young widow meant social isolation, no prospects of remarriage, and being doomed to live out her days in quiet misery, trapped in a grand estate with no freedom.

To modern Ling Xiuying, however…

Jackpot.

No marital duties.

No scheming concubines.

No expectations beyond mourning him quietly.

And most importantly—no one would care what she did afterward.

It was the perfect deal for a transmigrator who wanted to avoid palace intrigue!

She suppressed a grin so hard her cheeks hurt, immediately scrapping her escape plan.

The Ling father slammed a hand on the table hard enough to make the teacups rattle. "Enough! This is not a matter for mockery!"

Ling Xiuying lowered her gaze, schooling her expression into something appropriately solemn.

"Father," she said softly.

Ling Renshu looked at her with guilt. "Ying'er, I truly tried... If there were any other way—"

Other way to get me a lifetime pension and my own estate? No thanks, I'm good! "I understand," she sighed dramatically, placing a hand over her heart like a bad actress in a historical drama. "If this is the Emperor's will, then I will obey."

The room stilled.

Ling Renshu's eyes widened. "Ying'er…?"

She clasped her hands together, channeling every tragic heroine she'd ever seen in dramas. "Our family's honor is at stake. If my marriage can protect us, then I will go willingly."

Her mother's lips trembled, her expression torn between pride and sorrow.

Her younger sister, Ling Xiaolian, sniffled.

Her brother, Ling Zihan gritted his teeth, looking like he might cry.

Even Concubine Wan, who, according to Tao Tao, was usually cold and dismissive, gave her a rare nod of approval.

Only her half-sisters looked disappointed—probably because they'd been hoping for a screaming meltdown they could gossip about later.

Ling Renshu exhaled shakily. "You… you truly mean this?"

Ling Xiuying nodded gravely. "I do."

Internally, she was already planning her future as a carefree widow.

Just peace, quiet, and—hopefully—a steady supply of snacks.

Her father's eyes glistened. "My daughter… you are too selfless."

She bowed her head humbly, but internally she fought the urge to grin. This was the best-case scenario! No need to sneak away in the middle of the night, no need to fight against an unwanted marriage, no need to constantly look over her shoulder. She just had to marry a soon-to-die prince and live a life of luxury. It was almost too good to be true!

Her father exhaled and straightened his back. "Very well. The preparations for your marriage will begin immediately."

Ling Xiuying bowed her head. "Yes, Father."

As the meeting came to a close, she couldn't help but marvel at her luck. The seventh prince, whoever he was, had done her a massive favor by staying in a coma. If all went well, she could spend her days in peace—away from the tumult of palace life, away from the intrigues, and with no duties beyond quietly mourning a man she didn't know.

A grand estate, endless books, exquisite meals, and lazy afternoons basking in the sun—her future had never looked so comfortable!

It was a perfect plan.