A Concubine’s Competitive Life in the Prince’s Household

Shen Wei turned her head, her almond-shaped eyes sparkling: "Your Highness, you're back!"

Prince Yan strode over and sat down opposite her at the desk. He noticed the inkbrush in Shen Wei's hand and smiled: "Wei Wei, do you know how to write?"

Shen Wei nodded, her voice sweet and clear: "Your Highness may not know, but I have a younger brother who is quite good at reading and writing. He even passed the imperial examinations a couple of years ago. When I was at home, I watched my brother studying and writing, so I picked up a few basics."

She paused, gripping the inkbrush tightly, and added shyly: "At the Spring Banquet, Prince Heng mistakenly thought I could sing, dance, and was well-read... But I come from a humble background and am not skilled in dancing or music, and I haven't read many books. I didn't want to embarrass you, Your Highness, so I decided to catch up slowly and learn to read and write more."

Prince Yan's eyes were filled with a gentle smile.

This silly girl, trying so hard to save face for him, had started practicing calligraphy and reading.

Prince Yan took a sheet of Xuan paper that Shen Wei had used for practice, wanting to assess her literacy.

Upon closer inspection, he nearly lost his vision.

Shen Wei's handwriting was crooked and chaotic, resembling a few dead worms wriggling aimlessly.

The ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌‍ugly handwriting was unforgettable.

Prince Yan laughed heartily as he looked at it.

Shen Wei blushed deeply and angrily placed the inkbrush on the table: "Your Highness, if you keep making fun of me, then... then I won't practice writing anymore."

Prince Yan suppressed his laughter and walked over to hold Shen Wei's hand himself: "Come, let me teach you how to write."

With his large hand holding her small one, Prince Yan guided Shen Wei stroke by stroke. His hand was strong, and his brushstrokes sharp and bold.

In a moment, a powerful and majestic character for "Yan" appeared on the Xuan paper. It didn't look like the character for "Yan" but rather like a stately, proud eagle.

Shen Wei tentatively tried to imitate the character "Yan."

Her strokes were uneven and messy, simply hard to look at.

She pouted disappointedly.

It wasn't that Shen Wei was pretending—her calligraphy really was that bad. In her previous life, she had been accustomed to typing on computers, and she rarely held a pen to write.

"Don't rush the process of practicing calligraphy. Slowly, you'll improve," Prince Yan said as he took her hand again to teach her.

Shen Wei thought for a moment: "Your Highness, I'd like to ask you to write a poem for me, so that I can practice copying it every day."

Prince Yan: "What poem?"

Shen Wei's eyes curved into a smile: "When I was little, my brother and I traveled to Jiangnan and passed by a small courtyard. Inside, someone was reciting a poem titled 'Spring Banquet.' My brother said that someday, when I find my true love, I should recite this poem to him—so I’ll recite it to you, and you can teach me how to write it."

A well-read man like Prince Yan had never heard of a poem titled "Spring Banquet."

He was intrigued: "Recite it to me, Wei Wei."

Shen Wei's lips curled into a sweet smile as she began to recite: "Spring Banquet, one cup of green wine, one verse of song.

Again I make three wishes: one for my lord to live a thousand years, two for myself to stay healthy, three that we be like the swallows on the beams, meeting year after year."

This was a poem from the Five Dynasties and Ten Kingdoms period, but Shen Wei did not claim it as her own creation.

Her character was not that of a talented woman, and stealing someone else's talents would one day come back to haunt her.

"Meeting year after year." Prince Yan pondered the poem. Though simple, each word was full of affection, making it a rare, refreshingly natural piece of poetry.

Prince Yan picked up the inkbrush, spread out a sheet of Xuan paper, and quickly wrote the entire poem. He adjusted his handwriting to a clear, regular style to make it easier for Shen Wei to practice.

Shen Wei began copying the poem stroke by stroke. Prince Yan sat on the other side of the desk, reading an ancient book and occasionally glancing at Shen Wei's calligraphy practice.

Seeing her crab-like ugly handwriting, Prince Yan could only shake his head in helplessness.

Outside, Fu Gui reported that dinner had been delivered. Tonight's meal included delicious dishes prepared by the kitchen, as well as some green vegetables that Prince Yan had planted himself.

The green vegetables were made into a green vegetable tofu soup, which Prince Yan happily drank two large bowls of.

That night, Prince Yan naturally stayed in Shen Wei's Fangfei Courtyard. Shen Wei's left arm was still injured, but this didn't stop the couple from enjoying their night together.

Since her arm was injured, Shen Wei couldn't take the lower position.

However, being on top brought its own unique pleasure.

The couple played and laughed until late into the night. After their bath, they retired to bed together. Of course, Shen Wei didn't forget to secretly get up in the middle of the night to drink a contraceptive potion.

After Cai Lian took back the empty medicine bowl, she whispered: "My lady, if you like practicing calligraphy, tomorrow I’ll find you some better ink."

Shen Wei nodded: "Alright."

Shen Wei's decision to practice calligraphy wasn't a spur-of-the-moment idea but a well-thought-out plan. A humble vegetable garden could keep Prince Yan's attention for a while. But a garden alone wasn't enough—Shen Wei needed more small, intricate details in her daily life to make Prince Yan pay even more attention to her.

Such as practicing calligraphy.

Shen Wei's handwriting was atrociously bad, and Prince Yan had taken it upon himself to teach her, making him her mentor in a way. As a teacher, Prince Yan would naturally want to frequently check on his student's progress, to see if she was improving.

Therefore, Prince Yan would keep "practicing calligraphy" in mind and often visit Fangfei Courtyard to check on Shen Wei's progress.

With every bit of progress Shen Wei made, Prince Yan would feel a greater sense of achievement.

What was this called?

This was what one might call a "grow-together" dynamic.

The more time and effort Prince Yan invested in Shen Wei, the more he would come to cherish her.

By the time Shen Wei's handwriting improved, she could then take up painting, dancing, singing, and horseback riding. Life was long, and she had plenty of time to refine Prince Yan.

Yawning gracefully, Shen Wei slowly returned to bed, hugging her beloved treasure of gold and silver, and soon fell asleep.

...

While Shen Wei and Prince Yan lay together in peaceful slumber, a new occupant moved into the villa next to Fangfei Courtyard.

The courtyard, known as Qianwei Courtyard, had been cleaned up and was fairly presentable.

Zhang Yue sat in the main seat, surveying the large courtyard and feeling a surge of pride.

From now on, she, Zhang Yue, was no longer a lowly maidservant. Today, she had been elevated to the status of a concubine by the Princess Consort. The Princess Consort had also granted her two maids to attend to her daily needs.

"Pour me some tea," Zhang Yue demanded, raising her chin haughtily.

The two maids, Fang Er and Cui Er, had previously worked alongside Zhang Yue in the laundry room.

Now, Fang Er and Cui Er were her personal attendants.

Zhang Yue's heart swelled with indescribable triumph!

Fang Er lowered her head and respectfully brought a cup of hot tea. Zhang Yue took a sip and then spat it out onto Fang Er: "Such hot tea, do you intend to scald me to death?"

Fang Er and Cui Er immediately knelt, trembling with fear, and dared not show the slightest disrespect.

Because the two maids knew that Zhang Yue was the new concubine. According to the observations of the Prince Yan's Mansion, this new concubine would soon replace the once-popular Shen Wei.

Therefore, they couldn't afford to offend Zhang Yue for now.

After abusing the two maids and venting her anger, Zhang Yue returned to her bed, satisfied.

It was so much more enjoyable to be the master rather than a servant.

Zhang Yue looked at the dark curtains of her bed, her fingers slowly tracing her beautiful face, her eyes filled with hatred.

Zhang Yue muttered: "Shen Wei, just you wait. I will take away everything you have."

...