Chapter Six: The Princess

Looking at Yan He’s peculiar gaze, Shen Hezhi couldn’t shake the feeling that her thoughts were far from positive.

“I can. I know how to cure it,” Yan He replied with certainty, as if a stone had been thrown into a stream, stirring up waves of astonishment.

“You! Are you telling the truth?!” Cen Changxiao stared at Yan He in disbelief, but quickly regained his composure, sinking back into his chair with disappointment.

He had sought out countless famous physicians, none of whom dared promise a cure, and now this Sixth Miss Yan, merely a young lady of the inner chambers, claimed such powerful skill—how could that be possible?

Watching Cen Changxiao’s shifting expressions, Yan He didn’t even need to guess the cause; she was long accustomed to such reactions.

In her modern life, due to her youth and being a woman, even with her reputation, many doubted her, concocting baseless slanders.

Shen Hezhi noticed Cen Changxiao’s disappointment and smiled helplessly. Truth be told, he wasn’t entirely convinced Yan He could heal him, but with nowhere else to turn, he might as well try his luck and treat the hopeless as hopeful.

“My lady, would you be willing to treat me?”

If Yan He’s words had stirred waves in Cen Changxiao’s heart, then Shen Hezhi’s question took root in hers.

She gazed at Shen Hezhi, disbelief filling her eyes.

He was the Ninth Prince, noble and powerful—he could summon any healer he pleased. Yet, he placed his trust in her, a sheltered young woman. Was this blind faith, or… was it an acknowledgment of her as a person?

Though Yan He doubted it was true recognition, whatever the reason, his words left a lasting impression.

“Very well. At most, three years—I promise I can cure you. Are you truly willing to trust me?” Still uncertain, she made her guarantee. In truth, she could cure him in a year, but saying so sounded too arrogant, so she added two more years as a gentle assurance.

Even with the extended timeline, the three present were stunned.

Because Shen Hezhi’s cold poison was a secret, Shen Yi had dismissed everyone from the surroundings early on.

“Are you certain? Three years? No more than three?” Cen Changxiao stood up again.

Yan He laughed and nodded, thinking: Why is this man’s mood so volatile?

Shen Hezhi was better than Cen Changxiao, showing nothing on the surface, though his inner turmoil was no less.

He couldn’t explain why, but he found himself inexplicably believing in Yan He—a young lady who rarely stepped outside, and even he found it hard to accept. Ultimately, he attributed his trust to his own lack of hope; at this point, anyone would do.

“Do you not believe me? Well, it doesn’t matter, after all I…”

“I believe you. When can we begin?” Shen Hezhi interrupted her.

Yan He tugged at the corner of her lips. This man trusts her too much… Could it be because they are married?

It seemed the Ninth Prince was not as wretched as rumors claimed—he was gentle, and toward her, not unkind. Since he was sincere, she would help him.

“Anytime. But I’ll need many herbs, and I must collect them myself. Others can easily make mistakes, and if they do, the consequences could be dangerous.” Yan He spoke with unusual seriousness.

“No problem,” Shen Hezhi replied.

“What’s no problem?” A woman’s voice came from outside the door, drawing everyone’s attention.

At the sound, Shen Hezhi’s pupils contracted. Yan He noticed he was struggling to suppress his hatred; though well concealed, her sharp senses caught it.

“Oh my, this must be Sixth Miss Yan.” An extravagantly dressed woman entered.

Her words displeased Yan He. She was now married to Shen Hezhi—why still call her Sixth Miss Yan?

“She is your sister-in-law,” Shen Hezhi said coolly, his tone distant, but the woman seemed oblivious.

She walked to the nearest chair by Yan He, warmly took her hand, but Yan He subtly withdrew, and the woman didn’t mind, continuing on her own.

“I am the Ninth Prince’s younger sister, Shen He’an. I heard my brother had taken a proper wife, so I came to see. Sixth Miss Yan is truly beautiful, haha.” Shen He’an smiled broadly at Yan He.

She seemed friendly on the surface, but Yan He felt nothing of the sort; in fact, it seemed Shen He’an was here to stir trouble.

“Call her ‘Imperial Sister-in-law,’” Shen Hezhi’s tone carried a hint of anger, though Shen He’an acted as if she hadn’t heard.

“Why call her Imperial Sister-in-law? It sounds so old. Sixth Miss Yan is much nicer—and isn’t she only a stand-in? When Sister Jing returns, won’t she be demoted to concubine by my brother?” Shen He’an spoke carelessly.

Her words caused Shen Hezhi’s pupils to contract, his murderous intent erupting, impossible to conceal.

Cen Changxiao and Shen Yi grew cold, glaring at Shen He’an with disgust.

Yan He was puzzled. The original owner’s memories of Shen He’an were scant; she knew only that Shen He’an was titled Princess He’an, wielding more real power than her brother, the Ninth Prince. The rest was unclear, as was her relationship with Shen Hezhi.

But from the scene, Shen He’an was clearly unwelcome in the Ninth Prince’s residence.

As for this “Sister Jing,” Yan He cared little; she had no affection for Shen Hezhi. But if they intended to demote her to concubine, she would refuse.

She was herself—Yan He, not the previous Yan He. She would not be bullied again, and she had only Yan Hecheng to protect. Even if her actions differed from the former Yan He, so what?

Even if the Yan family fell, it would mean nothing to her.

“Shen Yi, escort Princess He’an out. Even if it’s the emperor’s order, she is never to set foot in the Ninth Prince’s courtyard again!”

“Yes.” Shen Yi approached Shen He’an, gesturing for her to leave.

Shen He’an merely pouted and departed, seemingly unbothered, leaving Yan He perplexed about the siblings’ relationship.

Once Shen He’an was gone, Shen Hezhi looked apologetically at Yan He. “Forgive me. Don’t mind her. From now on, you are the mistress of the rear court here, my princess consort.”

He returned to the gentle, refined figure, as if the murderous aura just now had never existed.

Yan He carelessly shook her head, inwardly reassessing Shen Hezhi—he was far more complex than his surface suggested, deeply shrewd.

She reminded herself to be cautious living with Shen Hezhi, or risk dying without a trace.

That was Yan He’s assessment of Shen Hezhi: terrifying indeed.

“Let’s continue discussing the herbs.”