Chapter 3: Face To Face With Her Foe The First Strike

She was staring at him coldly—and Longyuan Yucheng was certain he caught a trace of disgust in her eyes.

That can't be possible… He pushed the thought aside, his expression unreadable.

"You were unconscious just days ago are you sure you're well enough to handle the household affairs?" he asked coldly, his tone as indifferent as ever.

"Yes, Wangye. You don't have to worry about that. I can handle it," Li Meihua replied, already rising to her feet.

He gave a faint nod. "Very well. You can start today. As long as you don't cause trouble again… you may go."

He didn't look at her again, his attention returning to the reports stacked on his desk.

"Thank you, Wangye, for your understanding," she said coolly. Without waiting for dismissal, she turned and walked away without a single glance back.

Longyuan Yucheng couldn't help but lift his head and watch her departing figure.

Why does she seem… different today? That calmness, that detachment—it's unlike her. She even looked impatient to be near him.

Perhaps it was her new tactic to draw his attention. After all, he had not visited her courtyard yesterday, despite it being the fifteenth day of the lunar month—the night he was traditionally meant to stay with her. But she had been unconscious, and frankly, he had no desire to see her.

Yet something about her today unsettled him.

When Li Meihua stepped out of the study, she found Chunmei waiting anxiously at the entrance.

Of course she would be worried. In her previous life, every time she came out of a meeting with Prince Jing, she ended up in tears.

But she was no longer that fragile woman who cried at the drop of a hat.

"Come, let's go. I'm hungry," Li Meihua said calmly, walking ahead without looking back.

Chunmei quickly followed behind her, her footsteps hurried.

Once they had left Prince Jing's Longxuan Courtyard, Li Meihua suddenly stopped and turned to her maid. Her voice dropped to a low murmur. "Keep an eye on Hongdou for me. Make sure she doesn't find out, and report to me discreetly if you notice anything strange."

"F-Fujin… are you suspecting Sister Hongdou?" Chunmei asked, blinking in confusion.

Li Meihua resumed walking, her tone firm. "Just watch her. You're smart, Chunmei—you should know what to say, and more importantly, what not to say."

"Yes, Fujin. I understand," Chunmei replied softly, keeping her head low as she continued walking behind Li Meihua.

Soon, they arrived at Yonghe Courtyard. The crisp autumn breeze brushed past them, carrying with it the scent of falling leaves. As they stepped into the inner chamber, Li Meihua's gaze landed on Hongdou and Xiaoyu standing guard at the door.

She halted and looked directly at Hongdou. "Go and inform all the concubines that they are to come pay their respects today. And I expect them to be early," she said coldly.

Without waiting for a reply, Li Meihua turned and stepped inside, leaving only Chunmei to follow her and serve breakfast.

Because it was already autumn, the air inside the room was cool. Chunmei moved quickly to bring out a warming meal, while Li Meihua calmly removed her outer robe and settled at the table.

Outside, Hongdou stood frozen, still processing what had just happened.

Why does it feel like Fujin has completely changed? She used to be so warm… but now—now she's like ice. Hongdou thought.

Hongdou clenched her fists. Still dazed, she turned and walked away to carry out the order, her heart heavy with unease.

Meanwhile, inside the room, after Li Meihua finished her breakfast, she stepped out into the garden for a stroll. The morning air was still cool, the sky cloaked in a gray mist. The sun had yet to rise, and the fragrance of blooming chrysanthemums and osmanthus hung softly in the air, calming her restless thoughts.

But even the tranquil scent couldn't silence the storm churning in her chest.

Will she truly be able to control herself... when facing Chen Lianhua or that vile third sister of hers?

Her fingers curled slightly as she walked.

If not for sheer willpower, she might have already slapped Longyuan Yucheng across the face the moment she saw him again.

He lived. He rose to power. He ascended the throne and tasted the pinnacle of wealth and glory.

And she?

She had died—betrayed, broken, and buried in disgrace. Only her spirit had lingered, wandering helplessly as she watched those traitors bask in everything she lost.

A bitter laugh escaped her lips, sharp and cold. The sound broke through the morning stillness like shattered ice.

Chunmei, walking quietly behind her, looked up in alarm. Her fujin's laughter wasn't joyful—it was hollow, mocking, filled with a grief so deep it clawed at the edges of sanity.

Chunmei couldn't understand what was happening to her mistress. Ever since Li Meihua woke up, she had been different—cold, distant, and unfamiliar, like a stranger wearing a familiar face.

She's changed... completely, Chunmei thought, silently following behind her.

"Chunmei, let's go back. The concubines should already be waiting," Li Meihua said, her voice calm, but a ruthless glint flashed in her eyes as she turned to leave the garden.

They returned to the side hall of Yonghe Courtyard—Fuyan Hall. The moment Li Meihua entered, Side Consort Chen, Chen Lianhua, rose gracefully to her feet. The five lesser concubines quickly followed suit.

"Greetings to Fujin," Side Consort Chen said with perfect poise, bowing deeply.

Her etiquette was flawless—there was no fault to be found.

Chen Lianhua was a striking beauty. Though she had entered Prince Jing's manor six months after Li Meihua's marriage to Longyuan Yucheng, she had somehow managed to win everyone's favor—including the prince's. In fact, she now held more influence than the main consort herself.

Li Meihua clenched her fists tightly, her nails digging into her palms. Don't be reckless... Now isn't the time. She fought the overwhelming urge to walk over to Chen Lianhua and slap her across the face.

The sharp sting in her palm helped anchor her fury. Swallowing the hatred that threatened to choke her, she composed her expression and stepped forward with calm dignity. As the highest-ranking woman of the manor, she walked to the head seat reserved for the fujin and sat gracefully.

"At ease, Side Consort Chen," she said coolly.

Chen Lianhua rose first to bow, followed by the remaining five concubines.

Li Meihua's eyes lingered on the woman across from her. There was no denying it—Chen Lianhua was beautiful, the kind of beauty that drew admiration even from women.

With soft, rounded cheeks kissed by a gentle flush, long lashes framing serene eyes, and a figure that embodied graceful restraint, she was the image of demure elegance.

Though she lacked Meihua's brilliance, Chen Lianhua's delicate, lotus-like charm held its own quiet allure. It was the sort of fragile beauty that stirred a man's protective instincts—soft, yielding, the kind that made men feel powerful just by standing beside her.

Was Longyuan Yucheng one of those men too?

Li Meihua didn't know. Even in her past life, even as a wandering ghost, she had never seen through his heart. He had always been cold, even with Chen Lianhua—but perhaps a little gentler.

Across the hall, Chen Lianhua was staring at her, trying—and failing—to conceal the jealousy burning in her eyes.

From her seat nearby, Chen Lianhua cast a sidelong glance at her, struggling—and failing—to mask the jealousy simmering in her gaze.

Li Meihua sat tall, her presence effortlessly commanding. Her beauty outshone everyone in the room. Skin like first snow, eyes shaped like autumn almonds—deep and clear, yet unreadable. She had a slender, willow-like figure, and every movement carried an unspoken grace. Her lips were soft as peach petals, her brows like strokes of fine silk.

It was the kind of beauty that could silence a palace.

Even after lying unconscious for days, not a trace of it had faded.

Chen Lianhua couldn't understand it. They both came from powerful families, yet she—Chen Lianhua—could only ever be a side consort, a concubine in name no matter the title.

And this timid, naïve woman had become the main wife?

That thought alone was enough to make Chen Lianhua's smile strain at the edges.

How could she lower her head to such a person? How could she possibly tolerate it?

But Chen Lianhua pushed the thought aside.

Across from her, Chen Lianhua offered a gentle smile. "I'm truly relieved that Fujin is well. His Highness and I were so worried when you suddenly fainted. Thankfully, it was nothing serious."

Her voice dripped with concern, her eyes shimmering with sincerity.

If Li Meihua hadn't seen Chen Lianhua's true face in her previous life, she might've been moved. But now, that face only stirred the cold fire in her chest.

Since she wanted to act, then so be it. She Li Meihua would accompany her—until the moment she tore off that hypocritical mask.

Li Meihua met her gaze with a calm smile. "Side Consort Chen need not worry. I'm much better now, thanks to everyone's care."

She let the words hang briefly before continuing, her tone polite yet sharp.

"I heard Side Consort Chen has been managing the household in my absence. You must be exhausted... and perhaps not quite used to it?"

The five concubines—Tang Jingyi, Fang Shuyin, Yang Mingzhu, He Tingxue, and Lin Baoqin—watched the scene unfold with veiled interest, none of them bothering to speak up. They were all waiting to see what Li Meihua would say next. After all, they knew her well—naive, timid, easily overlooked. Only she had failed to see through Chen Lianhua's dual-faced nature.

Though none of them liked Chen Lianhua, their dislike for Li Meihua ran just as deep. To them, she was just as pitiful as she was weak. A woman who couldn't even protect her own position didn't deserve it to begin with.