The Female Alpha Consort Mistakenly Marks the Empress - TFACMME Chapter 22

Mu Lanshi was slightly stunned, the sickle mark below her eye still aching faintly.

That’s right, her mother’s words were a reminder. Had she agreed?

The marriage proposal under her mother’s name still needed discussion with others. Though marriage matters depended on the elders, true sincerity had to come from mutual feelings.

Mu Mei saw her daughter’s silence and added, “I was wondering before, if I didn’t agree, what would you do?”

Mentioning this, Mu Lanshi suddenly felt a bit guilty: in her previous life, she assumed her mother would refuse, then worked to protect Meng Yan secretly, climbing to high official rank, but her devoted efforts only led to the family’s destruction.

But her mother had also touched on the key point. Mu Lanshi, as she said when she agreed before, had a backup plan.

But today Mu Mei wasn’t asking about her backup plan.

“You must know your status. You are not just a commoner who can be proposed to casually today and married tomorrow. Behind you is the entire Mu clan, and behind Qi Yingzhu there is also strong backing,” Mu Mei’s voice had a hoarse texture. “Moreover, even with her consent, it’s not enough.”

Mu Lanshi was silent for a moment, then said, “Yes, even with her consent, it’s not enough. Just like the Mu family behind me will not completely support this marriage.”

“That’s exactly it.” Mu Mei nodded in agreement.

The two heads of the Mu family across the table—the experienced Mu Mei, and reborn Mu Lanshi, both mentally calculating—Mu family was never a united block.

Since Mu Mei, an omega, took the head position, the branches watched closely, waiting for their weakest moment to strike secretly and deal a fatal blow.

These people all hid in the shadows; Mu Mei knew their ill intentions but couldn’t find a reason to deal with them.

Mu Lanshi thought briefly, then asked, “So, Mother, what is your plan?”

Her mother clearly knew that the marriage could not be decided with the elders’ approval alone, so why had she agreed so straightforwardly then?

She recalled the look of insight and understanding in her mother’s eyes at that time.

Mu Mei picked up her tea cup, lifted the lid, and said slowly, “If someone stops this marriage, what should you do?”

“Lanshi is the future head of the family; marriage is a big matter involving many. If someone blocks it, there must be a reason… In other words, we need to see what kind of heart the blocker has.”

Whether Qi Yingzhu agreed was small; the real problem was who was behind the scenes plotting.

She had mistakenly drunk the wine of love; who gave it to her, who bound the contract, what consequences would follow, who would benefit—these tangled relationships had to be unraveled.

Mu Mei smiled faintly and asked again, “What if the blocker has bad intentions?”

Right after, Mu Mei took out a diamond-shaped jade token and placed it on the table between them.

It was a family token made from the red Dushan jade called “hibiscus red.” The front had a twin lotus inlaid: white petals, pink stamens, green leaves, perfectly matched. Around it was the family emblem outlined in gold thread, exquisitely made.

On the back was the engraved character “Mu.”

This was the token only the head of the Mu family could hold. Whoever had it commanded the whole family.

Mu Lanshi stared at the ancient, colorful token and smiled, saying, “The Mu family rules say that whoever holds this twin lotus token is the head of the family, commanding all family affairs. The entire family, from elders to juniors, must respect and obey without overstepping.”

As she spoke, the flickering candlelight danced on her beautiful ink-brush-paint-like eyebrows and eyes.

Gradually, in the almost identical phoenix-shaped eyes of mother and daughter, burned a fierce decisiveness Mu Mei had never shown before.

Mu Lanshi said, “Rule three states, orders issued by the head of the family are always for the family’s prosperity and the well-being of its members. Regardless of age or status, family members must unconditionally obey and may not disobey or resist. If someone rebels, it means they disrespect their elders and ignore the family’s foundation. Such a treasonous act,” she spoke these words ingrained in her bones one by one, “shall be executed immediately according to family law, no mercy.”

Earlier Mu Lanshi had wondered why her mother could agree so directly; now after this conversation, her doubts were cleared.

—Because her mother had this token as proof.

In the previous life, over a hundred family members died for this blood debt.

Mu Mei was satisfied and smiled gently, “Good. Since you know these now, I am relieved.”

She coughed suddenly—the tuberculosis acting up.

Mu Lanshi wanted to bring her medicine, but she waved her off. It was late; she would rest.

“I’m still strong and don’t need your help,” she said, then got up and walked toward the inner room. After a few steps, she said, “And stop wearing those sachets, they’re improper.”

…Mu Lanshi had cleaned carefully before seeing her mother, but her mother still smelled it.

Mu Lanshi froze, watching her mother’s slightly stooped back, suddenly feeling a sourness in her heart. When had it started? Her mother’s figure was no longer tall and grand like before.

She lowered her head and realized the jade token was still on the table.

Mu Lanshi was shocked, but after the surprise, she understood: in the previous life, her mother had also given her this token early.

One, to ensure her official career would go smoothly; two, to warn those with ill intentions in the family to give up—they disapproved of Mu Mei, an omega, as family head.

But Mu Lanshi hadn’t used this token well in her past life.

Her mother was the current head; how could she not know the dirty things in the family?

This talk today meant she was letting her go all out. The token meant the head of the family. The head had not only the family’s honor but also the Mu family’s centuries-old foundation and connections.

That was the most important thing.

Mu Lanshi slowly put the token into her sleeve.

Now was not the time to take it out openly. The family head’s inheritance always had a ceremony, usually during the predecessor’s funeral.

Few could give up power while still alive.

Thinking of this made Mu Lanshi feel more guilt toward her mother.

***

What Mu Lanshi didn’t know was that after she left, Mu Mei stared fixedly at the crescent moon outside the window, recalling a strange dream.

She was not the type to dream much, so she remembered the fragmented dream clearly.

In the dream, everything she had worked hard for about the family was destroyed.

She remembered fighting bitterly with her most treasured daughter—her daughter had mistakenly contracted with an omega during her coming-of-age banquet, and that omega was no other than Princess Meng Yan.

Mu Lanshi’s rise and high official position were all for that princess.

Afterwards, Mu Mei knelt in the autumn rain, begging for her poor daughter’s safety.

She begged her eldest son, who laughed arrogantly, saying his many relatives supported him.

… People’s hearts are made of flesh, and Mu Mei tried to stay fair within her limits.

But if anyone tried to harm her beloved child and the family she painstakingly managed, she would only have one path.

She had this dream the night of Mu Lanshi’s coming-of-age banquet.

Unexpectedly, the next day, Mu Lanshi confessed proactively.

In this world, idle talk could not avoid the occult; this connection made Mu Mei more vigilant.

No matter what, Mu Lanshi was always her most cherished daughter.

She did not ask about her backup plan.

Because she was her backup plan.

***

After returning home, Mu Lanshi did not rest immediately.

She sat upright, then gently knocked the table three times. A dark-clad guard appeared from the side.

This was Ah Xing, a colleague of Ah Chen.

She was steadier.

“Master.”

Mu Lanshi said concisely, “The thing.”

Ah Xing nodded and handed her what looked like an account book.

Inside was a piece of paper.

She unfolded it and smoothed it flat. It was filled with the names of servants in the Mu residence.

Mu Lanshi had a good memory. Even for servants, she had met or knew their names, and now matched them all in her mind.

“Tsk, so many?” Mu Lanshi smiled lightly.

This roster was what she had her subordinates get from interrogating Ma San, to find out which others, like him, took orders from Mu Yan.

A rough count showed more than twenty people.

Ah Xing was silent for a moment, then said, “Master, Ma San might not know everything.”

That was true.

Mu Lanshi nodded gently. “Yes, Ma San might not know all, but there is one person who definitely knows more.”

Ah Xing was puzzled, but Mu Lanshi’s slender fingers slid to the character “Zhao” on the account book. Her tone was very calm, “What do you think? Does the housekeeper Zhao know a lot?”

Ah Xing suddenly understood.

The name Zhao was not on this roster! But that day, Ma San had met with housekeeper Zhao.

Housekeeper Zhao’s full name was Zhao Li, an alpha. She claimed to be an illegitimate child left behind when the western Zhao king entered the capital, but it was hard to verify because the west was too far.

Moreover, this identity wasn’t why she could enter the Mu residence; the key was her ability.

She was in charge of the residence’s finances. If Mu Yan was involved with her, who knew how much had been pocketed.

“Master, should we arrest her now?” Ah Xing asked.

Mu Lanshi waved her hand: “That’s not necessary. She’s cautious by nature. Though it seems she has no relatives in the capital, such a person has nonetheless firmly established her footing.”

Why should Mu Yan command her to serve him?

That was the question Mu Lanshi wanted to clarify.

“All right, I’ll keep this list.” Mu Lanshi said calmly, then added: “By the way, after you go, help me make a sturdy box—one that won’t break even if rolled through fire and blade.”

Ah Xing blinked: “Ah? For, for what use?”

She rarely asked back, and as soon as she did, she realized she had overstepped. Just as she was about to lower her head and slap herself, Mu Lanshi spoke: “To hold people’s secrets.”

She smiled lightly, her phoenix eyes curved: “You see, these old creatures dare to harbor rebellious thoughts. If I don’t prepare them some generous gifts, how could that work?”

This was a method Mu Lanshi had used in her previous life immersed in officialdom and the sea of court politics.

She was no longer a pure scion of a noble family but had long been churned by the turbulent waves of politics. At the time, she felt it didn’t matter, probably thinking that the prince needed a living demon like her to overturn the court.

But she never expected that the real demon was someone else.

Ah Xing shivered upon hearing this, saying repeatedly, “Yes.” Then hurried out.

Though her lord spoke with a smile, her voice carried a bone-chilling coldness.

It startled her all over.

After stepping outside, she was still trembling.

After Ah Xing left, Mu Lanshi stared absentmindedly at the ledger in her hand.

It was indeed just an ordinary ledger, but seeing the numbers increasing and decreasing, Mu Lanshi’s mind moved.

The mark unique to alphas seemed to stir again.

She thought for a moment, then stood, took an abacus from the nearby antique shelf, placed it on the ledger, and slowly began to move the beads.

One, two, three.

Tch. Manipulating this abacus was not as smooth as playing the qin.

She had mastered music, chess, calligraphy, painting, sword dance, and spear techniques all at first-rate levels, but had little exposure to arithmetic.

But she had to practice some, at least to have a semblance of it.

One who always boasted about becoming the matriarch.

The room was silent except for the faint sound of beads sliding.

Suddenly, rustling came from outside the window, and a shadow flashed past.

Mu Lanshi frowned alertly, quickly putting down the abacus, pressing against the sleeve was a short dagger coated with poison.

But the “assassin” was exposed too quickly.

“S-sister?” A soft, slightly sticky voice came, followed by a fuzzy head peeking through the half-open door, looking toward Mu Lanshi.

It was Yaozhi.

Mu Lanshi calmly withdrew the dagger from her sleeve, smiled at her, and waved: “It’s late, why aren’t you asleep yet?”

Yaozhi’s round eyes bulged; when she heard Big Sister call her, she relaxed and hurried in with small steps.

Her left hand had been hidden behind her back all along.

Yaozhi bounced over and stood before Mu Lanshi. She was not very tall yet—standing straight, she barely reached Mu Lanshi’s seated height. When she came close, she answered in a childish voice, “Yes, it’s so late, and Big Sister isn’t sleeping, so I came to check.”

Mu Lanshi smiled faintly but kept her gaze fixed on Yaozhi’s concealed left hand.

Just as Yaozhi was pondering how to speak, Big Sister gently held the back of her head, lightly brushing past her, and said: “Yaozhi, tell Big Sister, what are you holding in your left hand?”

No wonder she was so cautious now; tonight’s matter was no small issue.

Yaozhi was stunned. Under Mu Lanshi’s scrutinizing gaze, she trembled and slowly brought out her left hand—revealing a brocade box.

Mu Lanshi relaxed slightly.

Yaozhi then explained: “Big Sister, do you remember the ceremony gift I told you I would prepare for you?”

“Ah?”

It was really true: back then, Yaozhi blinked, saying it was a secret.

Yaozhi opened the brocade box, inside stood a hollow silver sphere, very delicate, with intricate but orderly patterns. It seemed to depict a little dog carved in relief. This dog shape was connected on the outer side to a double-petaled lotus.

Mu Lanshi was momentarily stunned before realizing that Yaozhi had made it herself.

“Sorry, Big Sister, I said I would give it to you after your ceremony, but I cut my hand…” she said, even lowering her head and twisting her skirt nervously.

Mu Lanshi swallowed hard, feeling ashamed for her earlier suspicious thoughts. She gently comforted her: “As long as your hand isn’t seriously injured. This little sphere is beautifully carved. I must keep it well.”

Hearing this, Yaozhi’s face brightened: “The cut on my hand is nothing, but Big Sister only has this one ceremony in her whole life.”

“…Yes, one only comes of age once in life.” Mu Lanshi’s eyes darkened.

Yaozhi, pleased that her gift was accepted and praised, smiled brightly, chattering about how long it took to make the hollow sphere.

Mu Lanshi’s voice was gentle: “Thank you for your hard work.”

“Long work is worth it because Big Sister only comes of age once! Yaozhi also wonders what she will become. Hehe, though everyone thinks alphas are amazing, Yaozhi doesn’t want to be an alpha… Being omega is fine too.”

Looking into those sincere eyes, Mu Lanshi’s heart ached.

Her favorite pastime was carving and polishing small trinkets—thanks to those hands. But a terminal illness made her body gradually immobile until she was paralyzed in bed.

Yaozhi treasured Mu Lanshi’s once-in-a-lifetime coming-of-age moment, but Mu Lanshi herself never got to wait for her day.

Mu Lanshi took a deep breath and softly said: “Yaozhi, in the future, whatever you want to be, just be it.”

She thought she was not a competent Big Sister.

Luckily, this life still had a chance for redemption.

“Hey, Big Sister, are you using this abacus? If I had known, I’d have gifted you one!”

Yaozhi’s eyes showed surprise. In this era that praised ornate literary style, who in noble families studied arithmetic? Especially someone like Mu Lanshi.

But she only smiled, her eyes full of warmth: “Hmm, it will be useful for managing the household.”

Yaozhi grew interested, blinking.

She seemed to guess some thought of Big Sister’s?

***

In the imperial palace.

“Si-Sixth Sister,” a fox-eyed girl shyly looked at her elder sister and slowly said, “Are you feeling better today?”

Her Sixth Sister was Meng Yan.

She was the emperor’s thirteenth child, Meng Xia.

Elder sister had changed recently.

“You think I look like I’m feeling better?” Meng Yan coldly stared at her and snorted: “You’re always neglecting your duties. The Northern Rong is watching us closely. Didn’t you want to learn martial arts? Now you’re thinking about chess again?”

Meng Xia lowered her head and apologized: “Sorry, Imperial Sister.”

She felt that Sixth Sister’s difference was not in her attitude—her attitude had always been like this toward her.

Sixth Sister had been going out of the palace more frequently lately. Around early spring, she went out one night and didn’t return until the next day. When she came back, her complexion was bad, and she often vented her temper on her, increasing the number of times she was scolded.

Meng Xia knew Sixth Sister must have met something unpleasant, though she did not understand. She wanted to help her sister solve it.

“Hmph… it’s nothing.” Meng Yan lazily propped her chin on her hand, pressing some thin sheets of paper under her palm, writing something unknown.

Seeing her sister’s tightly furrowed brows, Meng Xia felt that even if she was scolded, she should share the burden. So she mustered courage: “Imperial Sister, if something is wrong, you can tell Weiwei—”

Weiwei was her childhood name, or rather, her official name for a long time.

Because the father emperor was busy and was an alpha, he casually favored palace maids and raised the children haphazardly. Even the name Weiwei was casually given by the emperor.

As for the character “Xia,” that was another story. Once the emperor was drunk and summoned his children, flipping through genealogies, he saw “Weiwei” and was familiar but couldn’t recall who it was. Meng Yan happened to be nearby and asked an eunuch to tell the emperor to give the girl a proper name.

Thus Weiwei got her formal name, though it was very convenient.

After Meng Xia got her formal name, the first thing she did was thank Sixth Sister.

Sixth Sister didn’t reply but told her to change her childhood name altogether, removing the character “grass” from “Wei”: “No need for an extra stroke! One can start from humble beginnings, jade can have flaws, but do you really think your fate is like grass and weeds?”

Meng Xia agreed shyly. Later she learned Sixth Sister had chosen the name herself. How exactly she changed it, she did not know.

But she always felt grateful toward her elder sister.

After scolding her little sister, Meng Yan’s mood seemed to improve. Remembering what she saw by the river today, she bit her lip.

Unexpectedly, the change came from here. Future matters required long-term planning. However, some things and some people she would never let go of. What belonged to her in the last life would still be hers in this one.

“Weiwei, come here,” her tone suddenly softened, calling her sister, “Didn’t you ask Imperial Sister to teach you chess last time?”

Meng Xia nodded and quickly set up the chessboard. She was long used to Sixth Sister’s mood swings.

***

Qi Yingzhu did not sleep well that night.

Actually, nothing unusual was happening outside her room. Her “family” were probably all scheming for their own interests, and right now they were all planning about her.

It was very quiet, but Qi Yingzhu couldn’t fall asleep, probably also because her omega heat cycle was coming. She had bonded again with an alpha, so feeling attachment was inevitable.

But right now, she was alone.

She tossed and turned, finally sat up, and by the moonlight filtering through the window, looked at the pale yellow shawl hanging on the clothes rack.

It was the shawl Mu Lanshi had draped over her today, worried she might catch a chill. She hadn’t returned it.

She got up and wrapped the shawl around her hands.

The memories from her past and current life overlapped. The solid, reliable texture—she found herself unable to fully savor its meaning.

Closing her eyes, she saw Mu Lanshi’s figure. She said she would take responsibility for her; she dressed herself following the popular love poems’ style, saying she came to fulfill her promise; she invited her onto the painted boat, and then they performed the bond ceremony…

The slender, delicate hand pressing into soft flesh, the tingling sensation at the touch points was intoxicating.

…In her past life, she had never felt this way. She only comforted herself repeatedly with the scent of that fine “soothing ointment.”

After all, in her past life she was the mother of a nation, naturally she had to remain chaste for the deceased emperor.

Chaste for what? Life’s gamble is only allowed once. Besides, her heart was already dead inside. No matter how excellent the soothing ointment was, it was useless in her eyes.

Qi Yingzhu rubbed her forehead and for a moment wished she didn’t have memories from her past life.

But she couldn’t.

So she decided to calmly cherish the little peace she had left.

Xu Yuan was no easy person, Qi Zhongxuan was determined.

Those two had already torn the household apart, and that secret concubine was even more complicated.

She originally thought the concubine was just a lucky omega, but upon closer thought, there were problems.

In today’s world, whether alpha or omega, they were respected. It was a blessing if a common family had one; they would be well taken care of. That’s what made this strange. What kind of family situation would cause an omega to fall this far?

Of course, there was another possibility—this omega herself was willing.

In recent days, Qi Yingzhu had figured out the details. But right now she was short-handed, and everything had to rely on herself.

Hmm, leaving the future aside, what she needed to do now was to completely break this family apart.

Xu Yuan, Qi Zhongxuan, that mysterious concubine—these were the main actors in the drama. Just add some fuel and soon the household would collapse, everyone would part ways.

Then, this family would be gone.

But after it was gone? Qi Yingzhu thought further:

Behind Xu Yuan was the Xu family, behind Qi Zhongxuan the Qi family, Qi Nian would probably follow Xu Yuan, but Qi Yingzhu herself had no support at the moment.

Thinking it over…

Tsk, there was only Young Lady Mu left.

Qi Yingzhu sneered inwardly, her gaze cold but soft as it landed on the pale yellow shawl.

Didn’t she say she would take responsibility?

“Then I want to see how you plan to take responsibility,” she murmured, the memories of the tender moments on the boat flooding back.

Her ears felt warm—surely it was just physiological.