DKGWF Chapter 1

| Table of Contents | Next |

ANNOUNCEMENT

This is my first time working for GL so if there are terms and words that are wrong then just do tell me, thank you...

During the plum rain season, the mist hung heavy in the air. The drizzle seemed never-ending, pattering incessantly, enough to wear down anyone’s patience.

Rong Jiahui listened to the sound of the rain as she sat in the swaying carriage, on her way to the city gates to welcome back the triumphant General Zhongli Luo.

More than ten years ago, Zhongli Luo had lived in her home for a year. Her parents had always treated him like their own son. In a way, they could be considered siblings. Now that her "older brother" was returning, how could she, as his "younger sister," refuse to welcome him? Even if, in truth, they had barely interacted and were more like strangers.

Ultimately, it was because she had been too proud and stubborn back then. She had looked down on the orphaned boy who had come seeking refuge, and she had refused to let herself get close to him.

She had always had a bad temper, spoiled by her parents beyond reason. And at that time, she had still been young and ignorant. Zhongli Luo had lived in her house, eaten her family’s food, used their things, and yet always wore a cold expression. Who would be pleased to see that?

The servants had often gossiped behind his back, speaking of him with disdain. If not for the fact that she pitied his circumstances—having no parents and nowhere to go—she would have been furious long ago if anyone else had treated her with such indifference.

Zhongli Luo wasn’t a fool; of course, he had noticed the slight dislike hidden beneath her aloofness. So despite living under the same roof for so long, had they exchanged even ten sentences?

Later, when he made the foolish decision to join the military and head to the dangerous northwest instead of taking the imperial exams, she had thought he was out of his mind. The northwest was treacherous! But at the same time, she had secretly felt relieved. At least they wouldn’t have to awkwardly see each other every day.

Who would have thought that time would turn the tides? The once cold and distant youth had somehow risen to great heights. Did she regret it? Not exactly. But she did feel a small tinge of regret—regret that she had never followed her true feelings.

She sighed, absentmindedly eating a piece of chilled melon from the platter her maid, Bailu, was holding. The sweltering heat and the maddening sound of the rain filled her with irritation. Unable to hold back her frustration, she grumbled, "This rain is so annoying. And that man is as irritating as ever. Couldn’t he have chosen a better time to return? Of all days, it had to be this damp, miserable weather."

Bailu, knowing her mistress’s dislike for the heat, couldn’t help but chuckle softly. She suppressed her laughter and said, "Madam, you should be careful with your words. General Zhongli Luo has won great military achievements and returned victorious. His Majesty has even granted him the title of Marquis Dingyuan."

Rong Jiahui pursed her lips. "You think I don’t know that? He’s a marquis, but isn’t my father a marquis too? What’s so special about that? If he’s really that capable, then let His Majesty grant him a duke’s title instead..."

Though she spoke those words, Rong Jiahui’s voice inevitably weakened just a little, betraying her lack of confidence.

Indeed, how could the two be the same? Her father’s marquis title had ultimately been inherited from her great-grandfather, a founding hero of the dynasty. It was a hereditary peerage passed down for three generations, and after her father, each successive heir would see the title reduced by one rank until it eventually disappeared. If her father made contributions to the state, perhaps he could extend the lineage of the title for another generation or two. However, he was the laziest of men—after receiving a nominal post, he spent his days idling at home. How could he compare to someone who had earned every bit of his title through his own efforts?

And Zhongli Luo was still so young. When her great-grandfather had been granted the marquis title, he had been nearly twice Zhongli Luo’s current age.

Zhongli Luo was undoubtedly a talented man. Even back then, when she had only stolen occasional glances at him, she had thought as much. Now, there was no denying it.

She slowly swallowed the piece of chilled melon in her mouth, but for some reason, she felt a tightness in her chest. Perhaps the melon had been cut too large. Yes, that must be it—it was all Bailu’s fault.

Resting her head in her hand in boredom, she listened to the sound of the rain and suddenly recalled something. Turning to Bailu, she asked, “If I remember correctly, that… that newly appointed Marquis Dingyuan is nearly three years older than me. He should be twenty-seven by now and still hasn’t married. Has he taken a liking to any noble lady?”

If it were any other young man, he would already have children old enough to run errands by now. Of course, her own family was an exception—her father had drifted through countless flowers yet never planted a single seed.

Bailu nodded. “Naturally, His Majesty has taken notice of this as well. Now that the Marquis Dingyuan has returned victorious, it seems the emperor intends to betroth him to a princess from Prince Ning’s household.”

“Princess Nanping, Xiao Wenyan?”

“Yes.”

Rong Jiahui suddenly felt a bit irritated. Of course—who else could it be but Xiao Wenyan? There was no point in asking. Prince Ning had only three daughters: one was her own sister-in-law, another was already engaged, leaving only Xiao Wenyan.

But honestly, it didn’t matter who it was. Aside from her sister-in-law, who was gentle and well-mannered, the other two were equally insufferable. They strutted around, arrogant and overbearing, simply because their father was a prince, looking down on everyone as if they were beneath them.

Xiao Wenyan was truly lucky this time. And for her, this was the best possible match. Zhongli Luo had a sterling reputation, was upright and disciplined, with no burdens of family—no elders above him, no children below him—free as could be. He was still young, and as for his looks, well, from what she could recall, he was quite handsome.

But now, that handsome face would belong to someone from the family she despised the most. The thought made her chest feel tight.

Just imagining Xiao Wenyan, smug and triumphant, filled her with an inexplicable discomfort—one she couldn’t even understand herself.

Unable to hold back her frustration, she stabbed her fork into another piece of chilled melon and muttered sourly, “She’s really lucky.”

Yes, lucky indeed. That arrogant, plain-looking Princess Nanping had always been so picky, never satisfied with any suitor. She had dragged her feet through her prime years, rejecting every proposal, until now, at twenty-two, she had become the talk of the capital—the city’s number-one "old maid."

Many noblewomen who disliked her would seize every opportunity to make subtle jabs at her situation, speaking with such impeccable grace that no fault could be found in their words. Watching her fume in silent frustration had become a great source of amusement for them all.

Yet just as she reached the ripe old age of twenty-two, such an enviable match had fallen into her lap. Who knew how many women were now secretly gnashing their teeth in jealousy?

Forget it. Annoyed as she was, this was someone else’s business now—it had nothing to do with her. No matter how jealous she felt, her life was already set in stone. Back when she had the best opportunity, not only had she failed to cherish it, but even if she had, what difference would it have made?

After all, her marriage had been decided long ago.

She had ended up marrying into the Liu family all because of her father’s foolishness. That muddle-headed father of hers… When her mother was still pregnant with her, he had attended a banquet at Minister Liu’s residence. After having a few too many drinks, his mind had grown hazy. Upon seeing Liu’s eldest son, Liu Qianchen, who was a bright and adorable child at the time, he had blurted out some nonsense about how, if his wife gave birth to a daughter, she should be betrothed to him.

With so many witnesses present, and her father being someone who cared deeply about his reputation, the matter had practically been set in stone. Their two families were well-matched in status, the Liu family had a good reputation, and the young boy was outstanding in every way. It seemed like the perfect match, and both families were quite pleased.

Poor her. At sixteen, in the prime of her youth, still enjoying the admiration of noble young men, she was unceremoniously carried away in a grand bridal sedan to the Liu household—heart reluctant, yet powerless to resist.

Had Liu Qianchen been a truly remarkable husband, perhaps she could have made peace with it. But unfortunately, though he appeared to be a refined gentleman, warm as jade, in truth, he was nothing more than a notorious womanizer.

Who in the pleasure quarters of the capital didn’t recognize Young Master Liu? If he ever failed to return home at night, one only had to check the brothels—places like Yihong Tower or Hundred Flowers Pavilion—and they would surely find him there.

In the beginning, she had been kept in the dark, believing herself fortunate to have married a rare and handsome gentleman, someone who suited her well. She never thought she had suffered a loss—until she discovered the truth.

Something must have been wrong with him. He had married her in a grand ceremony, carried her home with all the pomp and dignity befitting a noble wife… and yet, on their wedding night, he ran off with her maid, Qiu Fen!

By the next day, their household had gained a new concubine—Concubine Qiu.

That shameless Liu Qianchen! That treacherous maid, Qiu Fen! The mere thought of them filled her with so much grievance that she wanted to cry.

At the time, she had swallowed her anger. Ha! As if she couldn’t handle a mere Liu Qianchen?

But reality had dealt her a harsh slap in the face.

She truly hadn’t been able to handle him. That scoundrel left her alone to suffer in an empty marriage, while he paraded around the brothels, openly humiliating her. It was as if he were slapping her in the face with the sole of his shoe for the entire city to see.

It was so shameful that she didn’t even dare to step outside.

Everyone in the capital was laughing at her.

Even that, she might have endured—after all, she had endured so much already.

And so, she endured.

For eight whole years.

The more she thought about it, the more frustrated she became. She picked up her delicate round fan, embroidered with a picturesque Jiangnan waterside scene, and fanned herself absentmindedly.

Forget it. Eight years had passed, and the road ahead was still long. She might as well learn to be content.

After all, everything was already set in stone, and nothing could change it now.

Her scoundrel of a husband was indeed insufferable—just the sight of him annoyed her—but at the very least, he had always shown her, his legitimate wife, a basic level of respect. Though her father- and mother-in-law didn’t care much for her, they had never mistreated her in any way.

Take the highly sought-after winter melons this year, for instance. Everyone knew she loved them, so they had given them all to her. Each one had thin skin, crimson flesh, and was sweet and juicy. She ate nearly one a day, and if no one controlled her intake, she had no idea just how many she could devour—she simply never got tired of them.

Thinking of this, she felt a rare moment of contentment. She stabbed another piece of winter melon with her fork and popped it into her mouth, ready to chew.

But just then—

BANG!

The carriage suddenly jolted violently, as if it had crashed into something.

In an instant, she felt a sharp tightness in her throat.

Cough! Cough! Cough!

That damned winter melon—!!!

It seemed… it was stuck!

Help!!!

Help!!!

Rong Jiahui clutched her throat, her face contorted in pain as she collapsed onto the soft carpeted floor of the carriage.

Seeing her mistress gasping for air, Bailu’s delicate face turned pale. Without realizing it, the silver tray she had been holding slipped from her hands, scattering pieces of winter melon all over the carriage floor.

"Madam! Are you alright?! Did you choke? Please, spit it out! Spit it out!"

Panicking, Bailu pounded on her mistress’s back, desperately trying to help her expel that accursed piece of fruit.

But Rong Jiahui, struggling to breathe, could only clutch at her throat, her face turning a deep shade of purple. The piece of winter melon remained lodged at the back of her throat—neither going in nor coming out.

Bailu watched in horror as her mistress’s complexion darkened, beads of sweat forming on her forehead, veins bulging under her skin. Her once bright and beautiful face was now twisted with pain, her large almond eyes wide like bronze bells.

Tears welled in Bailu’s eyes as she screamed toward the carriage driver, "Turn back! Turn back to the manor! Madam—Madam is in trouble!"

Rong Jiahui’s vision blurred as the world around her dimmed.

Her hands, which had been clutching at her throat, flailed aimlessly until, with great effort, she managed to grasp the sleeve of Bailu’s robe. Summoning every last bit of her strength, she clutched at it tightly, trying to say something.

But before she could get a single word out—

Darkness consumed her.

And just like that, she was gone.

To think she had choked to death on a piece of winter melon.

Truly, there was no one else in heaven or earth as uniquely unfortunate as she was.

T/N: Please give support on my ko-fi page, thank you🍊🍊🍊