Chapter 1: The Dowry Bride to the Marquis’s Household

A wedding dress of brilliant red, a veil of the same vivid hue—everywhere Yun Xueyan looked, all she saw was an overwhelming sea of crimson descending upon her. Dizzy and disoriented, she sat inside the bridal sedan, feeling its swaying motion, unable to believe that she was truly being married.

Yes, she was being sent as a dowry for her elder sister.

Her mother had been no more than a concubine in the Grand Preceptor’s household and had long since lost favor. As for Yun Xueyan, she was the unwanted daughter, or perhaps it was more accurate to say she was no longer a lady at all, but a servant girl.

So why had her father, the Grand Preceptor, chosen to send her as a dowry? Did he believe she had not suffered enough humiliation? Or was it simply because she was so disregarded within the household that she was the obvious choice? To marry her off was better than giving away someone unblemished, surely. And besides, no one but her would be willing to risk incurring the wrath of her sister by vying for the prince’s attention.

She knew well of the prince’s reputation—he was cold and unyielding. Though she had never seen his face, tales of him had reached her years ago.

The deafening sound of firecrackers and the sharp, jarring notes of the suona filled her ears, but Yun Xueyan could find nothing celebratory in the cacophony. All she felt was a bitter, unyielding sorrow.

Even marrying into the prince’s household was a desperate hope to secure a better life for her mother. She had tried to resist, but her father knew exactly how to break her will—by beating her mother.

Her mother had raised her with great difficulty. In the Grand Preceptor’s house, everyone shunned her, avoided her—everyone except her mother.

“Yan’er,” her mother had once said, “marrying out is better than lingering in the Prime Minister’s house, neither fully alive nor dead.”

But her mother could never know that, for Yun Xueyan, home was only wherever her mother was.

“Bride, alight from the sedan.” The matron’s voice came unexpectedly to her ear. Yun Xueyan drew a deep breath and stepped out. Since she was only a dowry, no husband came to lead her by the red silk ribbon. She had to find her own way, step by careful step.

Each move was made with utmost caution, terrified of making a mistake that might embarrass her sister.

“She is not qualified to pay her respects at the ceremony—take her away at once!” The cold voice pierced Yun Xueyan’s eardrums. Hidden in her sleeve, her hand pinched herself hard—a warning that she was only the dowry.

Only her beloved sister deserved to stand beside the prince at the rites.

So she did not protest, but followed the matron away, the sound of mocking laughter lashing at her heart, each word a stinging blow.

She had endured ridicule before, but somehow, today’s humiliation cut deeper than ever, burrowing into her soul.

She had always dreamed of marrying the man she loved with dignity, but time and again she had crushed that hope herself, knowing it was a dream never to be realized.

Behind her, clear and unmistakable, the wedding rites began: “First bow to Heaven and Earth; second bow to parents; husband and wife bow to each other…”

Hearing this, Yun Xueyan quickened her steps, the words pounding in her head, making her temples throb.

Night fell, shrouding the prince’s residence in a veneer of festivity.

Yun Xueyan sat alone in her chamber, without even a maid to attend her. A cold smile curled at her lips. She was nothing but a servant—why would she expect to be served?

Did she truly believe that, as a dowry sent to the prince, she could rise to the status of a phoenix? She was only deceiving herself.

“Mother, I miss you so much…” she murmured, her voice tinged with quiet sorrow.

Duan Nanyu paused outside her door, stilled by the gentle sadness in her tone—a sound as soft and endless as flowing water.

The door crashed open and he strode inside, eyebrows furrowed as he approached. “Who are you?” he demanded.

Familiar as his voice was, Yun Xueyan could not help but force a bitter smile. He asked who she was? Had he forgotten she was the concubine sent as a dowry?

“Your Highness, I am Yun Xueyan, the dowry maid from the Grand Preceptor’s residence,” she replied softly, her tone stirring a sudden restlessness in Duan Nanyu.

Without warning, he wrenched the red veil from her head. The black hair concealing half her face was tossed aside by the wind, and as he gazed upon her features, his expression shifted again and again.

As she had expected, Yun Xueyan did not flinch. Seeing the revulsion in Duan Nanyu’s eyes, her heart twisted with pain. The scars that marred her face were not her fault.

“Your Highness, the princess is still waiting for you in her chamber. Please go to her.” Swallowing her grief, Yun Xueyan spoke quietly.

His incisive, indifferent gaze narrowed as he fixed her with a stare. “Are you giving me orders?”

“I dare not.” Yun Xueyan knelt, her eyes closing as her nails dug deep into her palms, leaving marks behind. “Please, Your Highness, go.”

“Outrageous!” Duan Nanyu roared, making Yun Xueyan’s body tremble, but she continued to kneel, straight-backed.

With a furious gesture, he flung the veil back onto her head. “Get out! Take that ugly face of yours and get out!” With that, he strode away.

Damn it—how could Yun Chengyun send such a woman as a dowry? Was there not a single decent-looking maid in the whole Yun household?

Only after Duan Nanyu had left did Yun Xueyan collapse, trembling atop the cold floor, the chill seeping slowly into her bones, too weak to rise.

Her hand crept to the disfigured side of her face, the ugly scars claiming most of her features. An ugly face? Yes, hers was ugly—never could she compare to Yun Xiyin’s beauty. Never could she compare at all…

Silent tears slid down her cheeks as she sat on the freezing floor—alone, through the endless night.