A Concubine’s Competitive Life in the Prince’s Household

The arrival of Prince Heng was never a good omen.

Prince Yan’s eyes darkened as he turned to Shen Wei. "Weiwei, return to Liuli Pavilion for now."

Shen Wei nodded obediently, her gaze tender as she looked at Prince Yan. "Then this humble one will return tonight to accompany Your Highness for dinner. Yao'er and I have prepared some lotus pastries—I’ll bring them for you to taste."

Prince Yan gave a slight nod, his eyes brimming with unspoken affection. "Very well."

Shen Wei adjusted her dress and hair ornaments, ensuring not a single strand was out of place before leaving the prince’s chambers.

At the courtyard gate, she caught sight of Prince Heng in the distance. The prince, usually flamboyant and carefree in his attire, was dressed in plain, casual robes today, leaning on a cane as he limped forward like an ailing man—as if the words "I too am injured" were written across his face.

Shen Wei had never held a favorable impression of Prince Heng.

The noble prince had repeatedly targeted her, using her as a means to undermine Prince Yan.

Prince Yan was her golden mountain—her source of wealth and security. Naturally, she harbored no goodwill toward anyone who threatened him.

Yet, courtesy could not be neglected.

Shen Wei curtsied politely. "Your Highness, Prince Heng, I hope you are well."

Prince Heng raised a brow.

Even with her head slightly bowed, Shen Wei could feel his sharp gaze lingering on her, as if trying to pierce through her facade.

After a long pause, Prince Heng’s voice, laced with mockery, reached her ears—so quiet only the two of them could hear. "Scheming so hard, yet the highest you’ll ever reach is a concubine’s status. How utterly foolish."

Shen Wei’s mind stirred, but she lifted her head with an expression of innocent confusion, as if she didn’t understand his meaning.

Prince Heng: "..."

Still pretending! That façade of purity and naivety—had he not once witnessed her true nature, even he might have been deceived.

To him, Shen Wei was nothing but a fool. In the royal family, mere cleverness was insufficient—lineage was paramount. No matter how meticulously she schemed for Prince Yan’s favor, her lowly peasant origins would never elevate her beyond the status of a concubine.

A concubine—a slightly elevated mistress—whose children would be handed over to the Princess Consort to raise.

"Let’s go," Prince Heng said coldly, flicking his sleeve.

His Steward supported him as they carefully made their way toward Prince Yan’s chambers.

Shen Wei suppressed a scoff, paying Prince Heng no further mind as she turned to leave with her maid.

A breeze brushed past as the two walked away in opposite directions.

---

Prince Heng limped into the main hall of the estate.

Prince Yan was not in his study but had retreated to his bedchamber to "recuperate." Before even stepping inside, Prince Heng dramatically announced, "Second Brother! I was so worried about your injuries last night that I barely slept—even dreamed of your sudden demise! Yuan Li has been beside himself with concern!"

Prince Yan fell silent.

Leaning on his cane, Prince Heng hobbled inside with all the solemnity of a funeral procession rather than a visit to an ailing brother.

The two princes had never been on good terms. Since establishing their own households as adults, their interactions had been scarce. This was Prince Heng’s first time entering Prince Yan’s private chambers, and he had expected them to mirror the prince’s rigid and austere demeanor.

Yet the sight before him was startling.

The chamber was far from cold and severe—instead, it was... cozy?

Soft, pale curtains swayed gently, fresh lotus blossoms on the desk exuded a delicate fragrance, and sunlight filtered through the lattice windows, casting a warm glow across the white jade floor. Passing a jade screen, Prince Heng approached the bed and saw Prince Yan reclining against plush emerald-green pillows, wrapped in a deep green quilt.

Before entering court politics, Prince Yan had been a fierce warrior, spending his days among sweat-soaked soldiers, indifferent to comfort. He would never have cared about pillow softness or bothered with fresh flowers on his desk.

The Princess Consort certainly wouldn’t have such refined tastes.

Clearly, this was Shen Wei’s handiwork—every detail carefully arranged.

A pang of envy struck Prince Heng. He, too, wished for a concubine with such delicate sensibilities.

"Second Brother, how fares your health?" Prince Heng plastered on a warm smile, tossing his cane aside and spreading his arms for an embrace.

Prince Yan recoiled. "Keep your distance."

Undeterred, Prince Heng produced a white jade fan, waving it gracefully. "We are brothers, born of the same father. It’s only natural for a younger brother to care for his elder. Tell me, Second Brother—do you require assistance with your... bodily functions?"

Prince Yan arched a brow. "Would you truly dare?"

The mental image was so revolting that Prince Heng’s fan froze mid-motion.

His attempt to disgust his brother had backfired spectacularly.

Their eyes met, mutual murderous intent flashing between them.

With a sigh, Prince Yan said, "Yuan Li, you were such a good child when you were young."

Prince Heng masked his bitterness with a flat tone. "Second Brother, there are no 'good children' in the royal family."

After lingering for the duration of a cup of tea, Prince Heng finally took his leave. Unable to escort him due to his "injuries," Prince Yan had no choice but to have the Princess Consort—reluctantly emerging from her prayer hall—see off the troublesome prince.

At the estate gates, Prince Heng leaned on his cane, feigning reluctance. "Sister-in-law, you must take good care of Second Brother. I even brought gifts—these chrysanthemums, fragrant and pure, will surely uplift his spirits."

The Steward presented two large pots of blooming white chrysanthemums.

Then, with exaggerated concern, Prince Heng added, "My poisoning was mild, so I’ve mostly recovered. But Second Brother’s case was severe—I hear such toxins can weaken a man’s vitality. I’ve prepared some tonics to fortify his yang energy. Do administer them when possible."

Another stack of medicines was handed over.

Princess Consort: "..."

Casually, Prince Heng remarked, "If the poison lingers, Second Brother’s health will surely deteriorate. Should the worst happen, your two sons will inherit his duties. You’ve raised them well—they’ll undoubtedly uphold the dignity of Prince Yan’s household."

The Princess Consort’s expression flickered.

She was no fool. Prince Heng’s attempts at sowing discord were transparent. Though she harbored grievances against Prince Yan, their fates were intertwined—she wouldn’t be swayed by such blatant manipulation.

Forcing a polite smile, she replied coolly, "It’s growing late. Your Highness should return soon. I won’t see you off further."

Leaning on his Steward, Prince Heng limped back to his carriage, which soon vanished into the golden haze of sunset.

Inside the carriage:

The Steward frowned. "Your Highness, your methods of stirring discord were rather... crude. The Princess Consort didn’t seem affected."

Prince Heng lounged lazily, popping a chilled grape into his mouth. "My sister-in-law is shortsighted—jealous yet unaware, petty and vindictive. Killing someone doesn’t always require finesse. Many clever men have died at the hands of fools."

The Steward understood. Prince Heng was cultivating the Princess Consort as a potential assassin.

Prince Yan could guard against political schemes—but could he defend against malice from his own wife?

The Princess Consort of Yan was in no mood to entertain Prince Heng's "provocative remarks." If a conflict were to arise between her and Prince Yan in the future, the bitterness of the moment would surely bring Prince Heng's words back to haunt her.

The steward marveled, "Your Highness is truly shrewd!"

Prince Heng abruptly changed the subject, drawling, "When will you deliver the concubine I asked you to find?"

The steward wore a pained smile. "Your Highness, this old servant has searched far and wide, but still hasn’t found a suitable candidate. Among the assassins in Your Highness’s retinue, there are a few who can butcher pigs and sing opera... Should we bring them into the manor instead?"

The bustling street was crowded with pedestrians as Prince Heng’s luxurious black carriage stood motionless in the center of the road.

With a loud thud, the steward was kicked out of the carriage, landing flat on his back.

.​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‍..

...

At the border, in Liangzhou City.

An urgent imperial decree, delivered by a courier racing eight hundred li without rest, arrived at the General’s Manor in Liangzhou.