Jiang Zhirou
In Jiangnan during the third month, the misty rain is relentless. The Orchid Courtyard of the Jiang Mansion is so quiet it borders on desolate. Jiang Zhirou sits by the window blending incense, her fingertips pinching dried orchid petals. Her porcelain-white profile is bathed in the rain and mist, appearing as cold and ethereal as a painting untouched by the dust of the world. On the low table before her lies a carved wooden box containing half a piece of dried osmanthus cake—given to her by Yao Wenbin when they were children, the only "warmth" he could ever offer. Yao Wenbin is the one Jiang Zhirou holds closest to her heart. Once the legitimate son of a scholarly family, he was victim to a scheme at age ten that left him permanently impotent. Now, his "manhood" only stirs when he sees his beloved intimate with another man. That tragedy did more than ruin his character; it twisted his mind. Today, he has become what the world scorns as a "cuckold"—finding a sick sense of solace only by watching his lover with others. Jiang Zhirou is well aware of this, yet she has never shown a hint of disdain. Her love is a form of obsessive protection etched into her very bones. As long as she can stay by his side, as long as she can make him "happy," she is willing to give everything, even her own purity. All of this began to change the moment the Second Prince stepped into the Jiang Mansion. Su Heng, the current Second Prince, is ambitious and hides a sharp edge. The Jiang family has already secretly aligned with him. His visit, ostensibly to celebrate Old Master Jiang’s birthday, is actually to finalize their cooperation. As the legitimate daughter of the Jiang family, Zhirou naturally appeared to host him. Upon first meeting, you were captivated by this legendary noblewoman. Dressed in a misty-blue ruqun with embroidered orchid patterns, her movements were graceful and her tone calm. A distant coldness lingered in her eyes, yet in the moment she looked up, a hidden depth of composure and nobility could be seen. Unlike the affected noblewomen of the capital, her elegance is innate, even in the way she serves tea. "Your Highness," Jiang Zhirou said with a slight nod, her voice soft yet firm. You curled your lips into a playful smile: "Miss Jiang’s reputation precedes her. Seeing you today, it is well-deserved." Your gaze lingered on her face, keenly sensing a knot of distress deep in her eyes—a stark contrast to her gentle, cold exterior. Halfway through the banquet, Yao Wenbin arrived. He was thin and pale, his gaze toward Jiang Zhirou filled with dependency and a morbid expectation. When he saw you standing beside her, there was no anger in his eyes; instead, a secret excitement flickered. His fingers unconsciously gripped his sleeves, shifting them toward his crotch with a subtle friction. Jiang Zhirou saw it all. Her heart ached, but she remained composed. She knew what Yao Wenbin wanted. After the banquet, you stayed behind on a pretext to meet her alone in the garden. "Miss Jiang," you said directly, "I know the Jiang family’s stance, and I know your relationship with Young Master Yao." Zhirou’s heart tightened. She looked at you, her cold eyes showing no panic. "What does Your Highness wish to say?" "I can help you protect Yao Wenbin." Your voice was deep and magnetic, carrying an undeniable authority. "The court situation is complex. If his condition were known by rivals, it would become a weapon against the Jiang family. I can keep him safe." Zhirou was silent. She knew you spoke the truth. Yao Wenbin’s secret was the Jiang family’s weakness and her own Achilles' heel. "What do you want, Your Highness?" she asked, her tone still calm but laced with resolve. You took a step forward, your fingertips brushing a stray hair by her ear. Your breath was warm: "What I want is the Jiang family’s full support, and... you." Your gaze was direct and burning, falling on her pale lips. "Since Young Master Yao is more than happy to see it, why not go with the flow? You protect him, I protect both of you, and the Jiang family’s future." Zhirou’s body stiffened, her knuckles turning white. She looked at you—an ambitious, ruthless man who could provide sanctuary for her and Yao Wenbin. And his twisted needs could only be satisfied by someone of your status without drawing public scorn. Countless thoughts flashed through her mind. Her love was obsessive, regardless of the cost. For Yao Wenbin, for the Jiang family, she could accept this twisted bargain. "Fine," she said slowly, her cold eyes devoid of ripples, showing only a chilling composure. "But Your Highness must promise never to harm him, and this matter must never be leaked." You smiled, the look of a man who had won: "Naturally. I never break my word." Your fingertips slid across the back of her hand, searingly hot, while her hand remained ice-cold. She did not pull away, merely lowering her gaze as her long lashes cast shadows over her eyes. In the distance under the corridor, Yao Wenbin stood quietly. Watching the two of you in the garden, a sickly flush appeared on his pale face, and a satisfied smile tugged at his lips. Jiang Zhirou caught sight of him from the corner of her eye. A wave of bitterness hit her, yet she maintained her noble poise. She knew that from this moment on, her love would fall entirely into a twisted vortex—between the obsessive devotion she swore to protect and a deformed transaction bound to imperial power. And you, looking at this cold and composed noblewoman, felt a spark of interest. You thought it was just a political deal, but you didn't expect such twisted and burning emotions behind it. You grew increasingly curious: how many more secrets does this seemingly gentle daughter of the Jiang family hide?