Chapter 1 — All I Crave in This Life Is Peace

I was merely an orphan raised within the estate of the Duke of Tran Quoc, harboring a long-standing, obsessive infatuation for his only son, Pho Lam. To win his favor, it could be said that I stopped at nothing, employing every unscrupulous trick at my disposal. With a single illicit herbal potion, I managed to force my way into his life as his wife. Throughout the capital, whispers claimed I was a social climber who had discarded all sense of shame to secure my position. I suspect he believed the same. Ten years of cold indifference eroded every flicker of youthful passion I once held. I grew desperate, screaming and railing until my composure shattered and my spirit became a distorted reflection of my former self. Yet, he would only sit calmly in his study, casting a chilling, detached gaze upon me as if I were a madwoman.

"Was this not all of your own choosing?" he would ask. "You have secured the title of the Crown Princess of the Estate; what more could you possibly want?"

On a night shrouded in snow, I quietly let go of my life. If I could live again, I would certainly keep to my place, vowing never to let my heart be stirred by him once more.

1. The winter this year brought a particularly bitter chill.

"Young Master, the person in the Liu Chau Pavilion has passed away."

Pho Lam’s hand paused, a drop of ink bleeding from the tip of his brush, marring the official documents before him.

"Is she putting on another show?"

He had lost count of how many times she had staged such scenes. Ten years ago, she had drugged him and crawled into his bed. Despite his fury, he had married her out of respect for her mother. She should have remained content, guarding the status of a high-born spouse obtained through her own cunning, and living out her days in peace. Instead, she was perpetually greedy, seeking ways to disturb him every single day. She knew full well he would never step foot in her chambers, yet she refused to let go. He spent his days buried in endless responsibilities—when could he possibly find the time for such trivial, romantic games?

But this time, it was not a pretense. She had committed suicide—cutting her wrists, her blood staining the snow a vivid, haunting crimson. By the time they found her, her face was pale as death, and her breath had long since ceased. Beyond the window, snowflakes drifted gently onto his desk; he brushed them away with a flick of his sleeve. He acted as if it were nothing, a matter of no consequence. He merely commanded, "Arrange for a proper burial." His tone was indifferent, as if the deceased were not his wife, but a complete stranger. As the sole heir to the Duke’s estate, he carried the burden of the family bloodline and was not permitted the luxury of earthly attachments. She should have understood long ago that the love she craved was something he could never provide. In the end, she had simply reaped the harvest of her own sowing.

2. Snow fell sporadically over the streets. Following the path, the crowds were bustling, and the spring atmosphere felt vibrant and alive. It was the night of the Shangyuan Lantern Festival once again.

"Miss, congratulations! You have correctly guessed the riddle! Here is your rabbit lantern."

I stood frozen, unable to reach out and take it for a long while.

"Miss! Why are you just standing there? Hurry and take it! This is the grandest prize of all!" my maid, Xiao Tao, called out. I started, turning my head to look at her, my eyes welling with tears.

"Xiao Tao... is it really you?"

Being a wife to the heir was no easy task. Pho Lam’s courtyard was guarded like a fortress, and those who sought to harm him, unable to reach him, took their malice out on me. Xiao Tao had once blocked a blade meant for me, her blood staining my arms. I had hugged her, weeping until I could no longer breathe. Pho Lam had arrived too late to stop the attackers, though he eventually saved me from the blade—but Xiao Tao had remained forever in that dark night. The courtyard had been thick with the scent of blood, and Pho Lam had carried away the bound assassins without a word of comfort. Xiao Tao was my maid, but she was also my childhood friend. After losing her, the cold nights in the Liu Chau Pavilion became even more desolate. Within those four walls, I had gone mad, wept, self-destructed, and broken everything in my reach, yet no one cared. My suffering was unseen, withering away through the seasons until it fell like dead leaves into the mud, dying in a corner where no one bothered to ask after me. In my previous life, I was blind to the realities of death, chasing after someone who never belonged to me. I had tasted the bitter fruit of my own actions; I only knew that that night had been too cold, and I never wished to return to it again.

3. "The rabbit lantern is mine!"

Pho Tuyet Nhi snatched the lantern, her tone dripping with arrogance. "I told you, if I fancy something, you should just go fetch the silver. Can the shopkeeper not understand human speech?"

The shopkeeper smiled bitterly. "Miss, this lantern is just a prize for the riddle; it is not for sale. The young lady over there guessed correctly, so the lantern naturally belongs to her."

Pho Tuyet Nhi turned to look at me. "Hey! Kieu Tri Dien, you are nothing but an adopted ward in our estate. You have no parents, no place to turn to; we give you a bowl of rice out of charity, and you dare to compete for things with me? Are you worthy? I am taking this lantern. If you dare to complain, I will make you regret it!"

She used her agility to leap onto the rooftops, vanishing into the night. Xiao Tao stomped her feet in frustration. "How intolerable! We must tell the Duchess about this when we return!"

I held her hand, my voice calm. "Xiao Tao, it does not matter. Let us go look elsewhere."

The Duchess had been a close friend of my mother and, seeing my pitiful state, had taken me in. Perhaps sensing my sensitivity, she showed me a small measure of kindness. Over time, Pho Tuyet Nhi naturally grew jealous and took her frustrations out on me. In the past, I never understood why, always trying to appease her in hopes of gaining some favor. But now, living this life again, I felt a sense of detachment. Whether people liked me or not, why should I force the issue?