TL: This novel is already in Novel Updates with 3 chapters, we’ll see if they’ll accept the links. If they won’t, I’ll still continue to post this novel here.
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Reading Guide:
1. Marriage before love: a beautiful and fierce half-demon heroine VS a “hidden mastermind” Demon Lord.
2. From Volume 2 onwards, the heroine transforms into a violent queen flower.
3. A fun and satisfying story—both protagonists are OP golden fingers themselves.
4. Non-traditional fantasy cultivation story, long-form, slow burn.
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At the break of dawn, the maid Lian Yue was already busy.
Lian Yue was petite and not very strong, but she made up for it with quick hands and feet and a diligent nature. She kept the Jishui Courtyard impeccably tidy and took especially good care of the Third Miss, Wen Qiao, who resided there.
After placing a copper basin filled with hot water on the stand, Lian Yue entered the inner room, only to find that the person inside was already awake, leaning against the bedhead and coughing softly.
Quickly, Lian Yue walked over and gently patted her mistress’s back to soothe her coughing. Seeing her cough so hard that her back hunched, Lian Yue’s heart ached terribly. In a soft voice, she said, “Miss, your medicine has been delayed for three days. I’ll go to the medicine hall in the front yard and urge them to send it over later.”
As she spoke, Lian Yue frowned slightly. She wasn’t sure if she could actually get the medicine, but she couldn’t just stand by and watch her mistress suffer from illness every day.
The coughing seemed to sap all her strength. When she finally caught her breath, Wen Qiao weakly leaned against the maid, her breathing faint.
“Miss…” Lian Yue looked at her with concern.
“No need.”
Hearing her mistress’s feeble voice, Lian Yue hesitated, but looking at her pale face, she ultimately said nothing.
Wen Qiao was the legitimate daughter of the Wen family’s main branch, and the only girl of her branch.
She should have been born into wealth and status, cherished and full of promise. However, due to her frail constitution, even with exceptional innate talent, her weaker meridians made her unable to bear the vast natural energies required for cultivation. As a result, her progress lagged behind others—better than some, worse than many.
Lian Yue deeply pitied her mistress. Every time she saw her struggle with the Wen family’s martial techniques, only to be hindered by her frailty, she couldn’t help but feel bitter. The Wen family often overlooked and slighted her, and even the medicinal supplies she was entitled to were sometimes skimmed by greedy servants. Lian Yue couldn’t stop thinking how different things might have been if the Master and Madam hadn’t died in the beast tide all those years ago. At least then, her mistress would have had someone to rely on within the family, instead of being treated like an invisible person among the many descendants of the Wen family.
Wen Qiao was unaware of her maid’s thoughts. After freshening up with Lian Yue’s help, she sat at the Eight Immortals table for breakfast.
Breakfast was a simple porridge made from plain rice.
The white porridge was simmered to a smooth, glossy consistency, rich and delicate in flavor. Though it wasn’t made with spiritual grains, it still tasted quite good. Paired with the small side dishes Lian Yue had carefully pickled, it was refreshing and appetizing. Even with her lack of appetite, Wen Qiao managed to eat most of a bowl.
However, Lian Yue thought her mistress had eaten far too little. The other young ladies in the household who practiced martial arts ate several bowls of rice at a meal. Cultivators consumed much more energy than ordinary people, and they had to replenish it through food. Even if her mistress only practiced for less than half a day, it was still cultivation.
After breakfast, Wen Qiao sat in the flower hall and picked up the Travels of the Sacred Martial Continent, a book she had read a few pages of the day before.
Lian Yue swiftly tidied up the room and then went out.
Half an hour later, Lian Yue returned. She didn’t mention her earlier trip to the medicine hall, and Wen Qiao didn’t ask. The outcome was predictable either way.
In Lian Yue’s hands was a branch of Danhuang Flower. Its densely layered petals glowed a vibrant crimson, and when placed on the desk, it was exceptionally striking.
“Miss, isn’t it beautiful?” Lian Yue asked.
Wen Qiao glanced at it, her voice as cold and clear as always. “It’s beautiful.”
Though her tone lacked even a hint of praise, Lian Yue was still delighted. Beaming, she said, “Today is your coming-of-age day, Miss. I know the Wen family won’t hold a ceremony for you; they’ve probably even forgotten. But I haven’t forgotten! Just now, when I passed through the Changchun Garden, I saw the Danhuang Flowers in full bloom. I heard they’re the Fourth Miss’s favorite, and no one else is allowed to pick them. But I secretly plucked one to give to you as a coming-of-age gift…”
Wen Qiao paused her reading, her perpetually indifferent face showing a rare trace of surprise.
Seeing this, Lian Yue felt a pang of regret for bringing it up, but she couldn’t act as though nothing had happened.
If even she forgot, who else in this world would remember that her mistress had come of age?
In the Dongling Kingdom, martial prowess was valued over literature, and traditional customs were not particularly emphasized. However, most prestigious families, if they cared about their children, would still meticulously hold such ceremonies. These events not only demonstrated their care but also showcased the excellence of their offspring to the world.
Unfortunately, Wen Qiao was not among the outstanding descendants of the Wen family.
Lian Yue sighed. Her mistress was born into privilege but had been orphaned and frail since birth. The fact that she had grown up at all was already a blessing, and it was impossible to ask for more.
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Just as Lian Yue thought that today would pass as uneventfully as any other day, a major event occurred in the Wen family—one that would change her and her mistress’s lives forever.
The ruler of the Dongling Kingdom, Emperor Chenghao, had decreed a marriage between his seventh son and Wen Qiao, the third young lady of the Wen family.
When the Wen family received the imperial decree, everyone was utterly shocked.
The Second Madam of the family, Madam Liu, came to Jishui Courtyard, where she saw the frail young girl sitting under the veranda, reading a book.
Leaning against the weathered wooden column, her ink-black hair flowed down like raven feathers, accentuating her pale, icy complexion. She wore a light green, slightly worn dress with no adornments. Like a stalk of bamboo, she exuded an air of quiet elegance. Holding a book in her hands, her head lowered as she read, she radiated a cool and serene beauty.
Occasionally, she would cough lightly, her thin body trembling faintly, adding a delicate frailty that evoked deep pity.
When Lian Yue noticed the Second Madam, she quickly stepped forward, bowed, and asked in surprise, “Second Madam, what brings you here?”
The Second Madam looked somewhat awkward.
She was a busy woman, managing the entire household, and had no time to care about someone as invisible as Wen Qiao. Although this was the reality, being questioned so bluntly by a mere maid left her feeling a little uncomfortable.
Wen Qiao slowly stood up, her clear, cold eyes meeting the Second Madam’s gaze.
Those eyes were calm and indifferent, dark and bright like clear springs. Although beautiful, they were too cold, making the Second Madam uneasy. Forcing a smile, she said, “Ah Che, congratulations! Today, His Majesty sent someone over to announce a marriage between you and the Seventh Prince.”
“Ah Che” was Wen Qiao’s childhood name, given to her by the late Master Wen for his only daughter.
Lian Yue was stunned. “What? The Seventh Prince?”
The Second Madam nodded. Seeing that Wen Qiao still maintained her composed, indifferent expression, with no visible joy or anger, as if nothing in the world could shake her, the Second Madam sighed inwardly. Although the Seventh Prince, Ning Yuzhou, was widely known as a cultivation failure and could not compare to the extraordinary talents of the Third and Fifth Princes, he was deeply favored by Emperor Chenghao. He had everything he could want and was far luckier than the frail and sickly Wen Qiao.
Even though no one understood why Emperor Chenghao chose Wen Qiao as the Seventh Prince’s bride, they dared not discuss it openly.
After delivering the news, the Second Madam didn’t linger and quickly left.
Once Lian Yue fully grasped the implications of the arranged marriage, she looked at her mistress’s breathtakingly beautiful face and felt a lump in her throat.
In the Sacred Martial Continent, martial arts were revered above all, and the practice of cultivation was widespread. Though the Dongling Kingdom was only a small nation on the eastern edge of the continent, it was heavily influenced by the prevailing culture. People absorbed the natural energies of heaven and earth, honing their bodies in the hope of one day ascending to the higher realms, shedding their mortal shells, and achieving divine physiques.
The Wen family was an established noble family in the Dongling Kingdom. It was said that one of their ancestors had once reached the pinnacle of the Dao and ascended to the higher realms. This not only left an abundance of cultivation resources for future generations but also elevated the Wen family, originally of humble origins, to a prominent position in the kingdom.
The descendants of the Wen family lived up to this legacy. Few among the legitimate line lacked spiritual roots, and they all pursued the path of martial cultivation.
Although Wen Qiao was frail and often ill, her talent for cultivation was evident from the age of five when her aptitude was tested, revealing her to possess exceptional spiritual roots. Despite her slow progress over the years, her diligence set her apart from ordinary mortals who couldn’t cultivate at all.
But to marry a mortal incapable of cultivation to a martial practitioner was a blatant humiliation.
Even if the Seventh Prince was favored by Emperor Chenghao, what did it matter? He was still a mortal, unable to cultivate. At most, he could live for a hundred years. How could he possibly compare to a martial cultivator?
Shortly after the Second Madam left, someone else arrived at Jishui Courtyard with Wen Qiao’s medicine.
Lian Yue saw the familiar white jade bottle, opened it to sniff the contents, and exclaimed in delight, “It’s the spiritual medicine, Rejuvenation Pill!”
Wen Qiao had been ill since birth, and ordinary medicines had little effect on her. Spiritual medicine worked best. However, spiritual medicine was rare, and even though the Wen family had deep resources, they couldn’t provide such precious medicine frequently for a girl who contributed little to the family. Most of the time, they only gave her regular Rejuvenation Pills.
Lian Yue was overjoyed and quickly poured water for her mistress, urging her to take the medicine immediately. At the same time, she sighed, “So this marriage comes with such benefits. That’s wonderful.”
It was as if she hadn’t been the one complaining about the Seventh Prince’s inability to cultivate just moments ago.
After swallowing the Rejuvenation Pill, Wen Qiao felt a warm current spread through her meridians, alleviating the bone-deep pain she constantly endured.
Spiritual medicine was truly incomparable to ordinary pills.
Seeing that her mistress’s complexion had improved significantly, Lian Yue felt relieved and secretly thought: even if the Seventh Prince is a waste, so be it. As long as this marriage allows her mistress to take more spiritual medicine, easing her illness and letting her live a longer life, she would ask for nothing more.