Metamorphosis of an Ugly Girl – Part One

“A simple congratulations, no need for thanks!” The Fourth King’s smile was as warm as a spring breeze, free of any impurity, neither the childhood affection towards Qingqing nor the later coldness, but a distant loneliness. That smile was full of face yet devoid of warmth, making one want to flee. “Thank you for reminding me, and for being willing to help.” “You already know?” The Fourth King smiled as usual. “If it weren’t for the ‘help’ of the Fourth King, how could I have earned merit so easily?” Initially, Qingqing was too eager for success to notice, but after calming down, she realized that if not for the Fourth King’s machinations, how could the Empress Dowager have fallen ill so conveniently? “We are using each other, aren’t we?” The Fourth King’s smile faded, replaced by a cold, desolate look. “I’m here to remind you, don’t be too happy too soon; things are not that simple.” Chapter 127: The Difference Between Wolves and Companions Qingqing’s heart sank for a moment, then she smiled brightly at the familiar stranger, “Your Highness is kind. Since I can be your companion, I will not fall easily.” “We are not companions,” the Fourth Prince leaned in close, almost close enough to feel his breath: “We are wolves hunting together.” “Wolves?” Qingqing frowned, clearly not understanding. “Wolves are the loneliest animals; they only gather when hunting. But if they get hungry, they’ll eat each other. Companions won’t.” Qingqing smiled, waiting for him to continue, “Why won’t companions?” “Companions are humans. Humans, even when not hungry, will eat their own kind.” Qingqing’s smile froze at the corner of her lips, “Is the Fourth King warning me? Rest assured, if I’m foolish enough to be eaten by my own kind, I’d rather die by hitting my head against a wall.” “Very good! Haha…” The Fourth Prince laughed heartily, not hiding his admiration in his eyes. At the ancestral hall, everyone was congratulating Qingqing with auspicious words. However, Yafu looked pale, as if she hadn’t rested well for days. Li Qin asked what was wrong, and she only said she didn’t sleep well. Qingqing saw this, and had an inkling that tonight’s main event might shift to Yafu, who usually took good care of herself and enjoyed good food and drink, so why would she suddenly feel unwell? However, the timing was indeed peculiar, just on the night of her promotion. If it were the old Qingqing, she wouldn’t have noticed. But with her intelligence and the “promotion” from the beautiful abbess, she quickly saw through it. Qingqing thought to herself, I might have the potential to become an evil concubine. According to tradition, a newly promoted concubine should attend to the emperor’s bed that night. But now, it seemed unlikely that Li Qin would visit her palace tonight. Indeed—Chapter 128: What Could Surprise Someone Who Has Died Once In Cangju Palace, only a few lamps were lit, and it seemed that all the maids had gone to assist Yafu. Qingqing didn’t light any more lamps; she entered her room alone, sat down in a chair, bored. Just now, Yuzhen’s confusion, Li Qin’s concern, the Empress Dowager’s understanding… all these fragments replayed in her mind. Tonight was supposed to be her night, why? Why did Yafu, even with everything, refuse to be content and always steal the blessings and confidence she had worked so hard to obtain? Feeling frustrated, Qingqing saw two white jade wine pots on the tea table. The old nanny in the palace said that tonight was like Qingqing’s wedding night, naturally, she should drink the nuptial wine with Li Qin. “Who would drink nuptial wine with me now?” Qingqing sighed to herself, picked up the wine pot, and poured a full cup, drinking it down. “Ah—” A sigh came from outside, filled with myriad emotions: pity, sympathy, reluctance. Then, Qingqing saw the handsome, cold face of the Fourth King. She wasn’t surprised; she picked up another cup, filled it, and gestured for him to sit and drink with her. “You seem not to be surprised by anything.” The Fourth King took a small sip of wine, his voice calm and emotionless. “What could surprise someone who has died once?” “Perhaps, you’ve mastered everything.” The Fourth King watched Qingqing down another gulp, a slight ripple appearing on her face before vanishing. “Is the Fourth King talking about the news of Consort Shu being pregnant?” It seemed it was going to rain tonight. Qingqing touched her moist cheeks, concluding it was not tears, and continued, “I only wonder why she waited until tonight to say it; if she had said it a few days earlier, I might not even have had today’s promotion ceremony.” She grew more agitated, her voice almost choking. The Fourth King’s cold smile froze, interrupting Qingqing’s meaningless sobs, “She wanted you to know that even with your promotion, you can’t surpass her. She simply wanted to strike at you with this.” Qingqing knew this all too well, and she was even more aware of what fate awaited the child in Yafu’s womb. But for some reason, she suddenly felt very tired tonight. Chapter 129: The Taste of Fox Claws In the bamboo forest, the Ghost Doctor, to purge her innate body poison, had one hundred white foxes, drugged with stimulants, scratch her face one by one. The taste of fox claws is unknown to those who haven’t experienced it—she nearly died from excessive blood loss. When the Ghost Doctor, seeing her near unconsciousness, said, “Miss, the poison is removed, let’s spare these last three,” although she was so weak she could hardly breathe, she firmly shook her head because she remembered the Ghost Doctor had said that all one hundred were needed for the best effect. She finally reached the hundredth one. Though the pain was so intense that she wished for death, she still managed to force a fox-like smile at the corner of her mouth, signaling that she was fine and that the ghost doctor could apply the Tianshan Snow Lotus to remove her scars. Later, she drank a bowl of soup boiled by the white fox every day. The soup had a sour taste with an overwhelming stench that made one want to vomit, but she always swallowed it down, dregs and all, without even a frown. She had a home she couldn’t return to, parents she dared not acknowledge, and had to tread carefully at every step, vigilant in all matters. Why was she even alive? What was all this for? To prevent others from pitying her? Could all men be so shallow, valuing only a beautiful facade?