An Author and Protagonist Got a Happy Ending [Transmigration] - Chapter 19

The power of the original plot is formidable.

This was the only thought remaining in Xiao Muyu’s mind. Regardless of how the plot twisted or turned, the Noble Consort’s obsession with putting her to death remained unchanged. Although she had worried about this before… after all, the Princess was here.

Perhaps it was precisely because of the Princess that the Consort resented her so much.

Xiao Muyu lay on the stiff wooden bedboard like a salted fish, desperately trying to recall the plot while thinking of a way to deal with the situation. Even if she used the other troublemaking consorts as a shield, she wouldn’t be able to hide it from the Princess for long; the Princess would know the truth the moment she conducted an interrogation.

The Noble Consort had dared to kidnap her directly to this place, clearly prepared for a falling out with the Princess. To go to such lengths and pay such a price to kill her meant her hatred had reached an absolute peak.

Why did she hate her so much?

Initially, it was because the Saintess had offended the Consort during the ceremony. What had triggered it? It seemed to be over a piece of jewelry that resembled a relic given to the Consort by the late Empress. Seeing it, the Consort had immediately lashed out, ordering her to take it off on the spot, but the wooden Saintess had refused. That was the spark that ignited the conflict.

Everything that followed was what Xiao Muyu had experienced.

Before this, the Consort was angry but had left some room for maneuver. Why had she suddenly gone mad and targeted her now? Was it the Old Emperor’s order? Or… was it that she couldn’t accept the Princess truly wanting to marry her?

Xiao Muyu vaguely remembered that she had written some rather twisted character settings. Her head began to ache—in the literal sense.

At this point, banter and playing dumb were useless. Moreover, she no longer had the strength for it. As the Noble Consort approached, her shrill voice exploded in Xiao Muyu’s ear.

“What kind of sorcery did you use to bewitch the Princess?!”

“Feixue is such an obedient child, yet she defied the Emperor’s wishes for you—you cannot be forgiven even if you die ten thousand times.”

“Feixue is too deep in the game to see it, so I will rid her of you, you vixen, on her behalf.”

…

So noisy. So annoying. Can you just be quiet for a second?

Thud—

The cold glint of a blade flashed past the corner of Xiao Muyu’s eye. She curled her body up. When the blade fell, it pinned into the wood right beside her ear, a strand of severed hair fluttering in the breeze.

She squinted her eyes and looked toward the door. It was likely early morning; the light outside was gradually brightening. But it was quickly blocked. Her vision dimmed bit by bit, and the last thing she heard before her consciousness shifted was a cry from the Consort’s maid.

“Your Highness!” The maid froze for a second, then rushed to the door in a panic to help the Consort, who had stumbled and crashed into the door. “Are you alright!”

“Get lost!” the Consort growled, throwing off the maid’s hand.

“Ah!” The maid, caught off guard, hit her head on the doorframe and couldn’t help but scream in pain.

Unmoved, the Consort stood up by gripping the doorframe. She looked coldly at the woman lying on the broken wooden board. She had such a pitiful face; the moment her brows curved, she looked utterly helpless. She was so beautiful and fragile that she could move anyone’s heart.

This must be how Feixue was deceived, the Consort thought. That child has always been the softest person. Just like her mother.

Thinking this, the Consort casually wiped a bite wound on her lip. The smeared blood stained the handle of another dagger in her hand. She had just been kicked away by the other woman; it was only because she had been too emotional and careless that she had been pushed back.

The Consort did not believe she would be unable to overcome this “vase” Saintess’s “sorcery.” As long as she killed her, Feixue would return to normal. If that was the case, it didn’t matter what price she had to pay. Even if the Princess hated her for it.

But such a gentle and soft-hearted child would probably be unable to truly hate her. After all, she had protected that child for so many years. How could she bear it?

The Consort’s gaze grew a bit hazy, but her grip on the knife tightened. As long as I kill her—

The Consort raised the knife in her hand and swung it down forcefully at the person on the wooden board.

Clang—

The flying dagger was knocked to the floor. The Consort’s wrist went numb from the shock. A blade thrown by the other person grazed her cheek, leaving a thin trail of blood, before the whistle of wind vanished. The thrown blade was embedded firmly into the wooden door.

The maid, who had just managed to scramble up, felt her legs go weak again from the aftershock of the blade above her head and fell back to the floor. With trembling hands, she covered her mouth, looked past the Consort’s hand frozen in mid-air, and stared at the person sitting on the wooden board.

“S-Saintess…” she stammered, half in disbelief and half to snap the Consort back to reality. To confirm she wasn’t in some terrible nightmare.

Was the Saintess originally like this?

The person sitting casually on the edge of the wooden board was clearly the Saintess, her face blooming with a bright smile. She lacked the timidity and caution she usually showed before the Consort and the Princess, and there was no sense of pressure emanating from her. If one ignored the overly distinct beauty of her face, she looked no different from an innocent girl from an ordinary family.

The Consort gritted her teeth. “You’ve finally shown your true colors! You vixen! Tell me, what is your purpose in deliberately approaching the Princess?!”

Xiao Muyu sat with one leg crossed over the other, propping herself up with her hands and leaning back slightly to look at her, her face full of confusion. “What are you talking about? It was Her Highness who insisted on marrying me. If you have a way to make her change her mind, I will thank you and your ancestors for eight generations.”

“Shut up!” Enraged, the Consort raised her voice in sarcasm. “If not for your sorcery, how could the Princess fall for a lowly airhead like you?”

She raised another knife and lunged at Xiao Muyu. Xiao Muyu shifted her body, dodging the blade. As she moved, half of her wrist was exposed, revealing two striking blood-red marks. They were wounds left from when she broke free of her ropes. She was clearly herself, not some substitute puppet.

“Sigh, I am currently a weak woman without the strength to even truss a chicken. Isn’t Your Highness being a bit too much? Bullying others with your status isn’t a good virtue.”

The Consort sneered. “Save your bewitching tricks; they won’t work on me. Today, I am definitely going to kill you.” She swung the knife again.

Xiao Muyu leaped down from the wooden board, her footsteps shifting as she rounded behind the Consort. Her movements were as light and agile as if she were dancing.

“Truly a pity,” Xiao Muyu’s voice whispered right into the Consort’s ear.

“What?!” The Consort swung her knife violently behind her.

“I just feel sorry for you. After all, like me, you have no cultivation ability. In this world where almost everyone can cultivate, you’re just a pitiable little thing who deserves sympathy. Even if you’ve practiced martial arts since childhood, you can’t even kill a tiny ‘vase’ like me right now. It must be painful.”

“Oh, right. Let me tell you some good news: Her Highness will be the first genius to ascend in the two hundred years since the ancestors severed the Path to Heaven.”

“She will eventually leave you behind.”

“Of course, you wouldn’t live that long anyway.”

Ordinary people who cannot cultivate are subject to aging, sickness, and death. Their lifespans are much shorter than those of cultivators.

The Consort gripped the knife so hard that the blade cut her palm, but she didn’t notice. Her face was a mask of fury at being poked in her sore spot. “Who exactly are you?!”

These were absolutely not words that the “vase” Saintess would say. Even if it were just to disturb her mind… she actually couldn’t land a strike on a mere Saintess. The Saintess had zero cultivation ability, and there were never any rumors of her knowing martial arts. She was just a “mascot” of the Temple—good to look at but useless. How could she possibly…

“Haven’t you heard the saying, ‘The Saintess has the power to communicate with the gods’?”

“Impossible! There are no gods in this world!” The Consort turned and lunged with her blade again, but she struck empty air once more, the knife embedding itself into the wooden door.

Xiao Muyu stood with her back to her, rubbed her chin, and pondered for a moment. The instant the person behind her moved, she turned, gripped the Consort’s chin, and pinned her back against the door. With a dull thud, the Consort hit the doorframe. She couldn’t move, yet she still stared at her with a face full of fury.

“Don’t look at me as if I’m the villain. You’re the one trying to kill me, you know,” Xiao Muyu murmured to herself. “I’m sorry to cause you such pain, but since you want to kill me, you can’t blame me for acting in self-defense, right?”

Her tone was gentle and soft, carrying a hint of apology. But her pitch-black eyes held no warmth at all; they were like a bottomless abyss. There was no emotional fluctuation, nor did they reflect a single person. Her gaze was empty of everything, like a lonely, high god looking down on sentient beings.

Outside the Noble Consort’s palace.

The Princess and Pei Qiuyue arrived at a rapid pace. The guards looked at each other in alarm but still found the courage to block them.

“Your Highness, the Noble Consort has ordered that no one—”

“Get lost,” the Princess swept her cold gaze across them.

The guards hesitated. The Princess simply flicked her sleeve; several people felt a violent wind hit them head-on. By the time they reacted, they had crashed into walls and pillars. A path was cleared. Seeing this, those behind didn’t dare block them again; they lowered their heads and backed away, fearing they would trigger the Princess’s wrath.

The Princess hurried toward a specific part of the palace. Pei Qiuyue was puzzled as to how the Princess seemed to know the destination. But now wasn’t the time to ask. Pei Qiuyue was also extremely worried about the Saintess’s whereabouts; this was her dereliction of duty, and the priority was to find her.

As someone who knew some of the inside story between the Consort and the Princess, Pei Qiuyue was quite uneasy. The Consort’s protective urge toward the Princess was almost pathological. No one knew what she would do to the Saintess. Furthermore, neither of them had cultivation abilities; the Consort had practiced martial arts since childhood and had followed the late Empress onto the battlefield. The Saintess, an “empty vase” mascot, would be no match for her…

The secluded courtyard was right in front of them. Hearing the sound of what seemed like cold weapons clashing, the two accelerated simultaneously. Spotting the vibrating wooden door of the servants’ quarters from a distance, the Princess threw the door open with a wave of her hand, only to see someone tumble out.

The people inside stopped their movements at once.

The Consort held a dagger, her face full of shock and a trace of undisguised cruelty. The little maid had long since been scared out of her wits, paralyzed and able only to move her eyes.

Xiao Muyu, who had fallen out, turned and saw the Princess. She froze for a second, then her eyes lit up. She lunged into the arms of the approaching Princess. In a blink, her tears were like a faucet being turned on, gushing out instantly.

“She wanted to kill me! I’m so scared, wahhh! Help me quickly!”

She really cried as if it were the real thing.

The Noble Consort, who had been toyed with for half the morning and had only just reclaimed her knife: “…”