The war had reached a stalemate when news came from the front lines that Duan Xinghui had died in battle. Jiahui was stunned. After that, she refused to eat or drink, her heartbreak consuming her. The Emperor, unable to bear watching his sister suffer, eventually forced her to start eating again. But Jiahui's health continued to decline as she mourned deeply for Duan Xinghui.
She missed him intensely, even contemplating shaving her head to become a nun. Those who pass away stay forever in the hearts of those still living, and the wounds of loss only deepen, leaving a void that no one can fill.
But then, not long after, the supposedly dead Duan Xinghui returned to the capital—with another woman.
As Ning Shu absorbed this part of the story, she realized how the once-pampered princess had become the cannon fodder in the true love story between the general and this new girl. Ning Shu sighed deeply, feeling genuine sympathy for the original host. It was all the result of one simple word: "emotion."
The storyline continued with Jiahui refusing to accept the situation and stirring up trouble for the couple. She leveraged her power as a princess to make life difficult for the village girl who had seemingly come out of nowhere.
What astonished Jiahui was how the steady and earnest Duan Xinghui transformed into a passionate man when it came to that village girl. He would shout and rage like a petulant child, defying imperial edicts to declare that he would love only her for the rest of his life.
Jiahui felt as if she had been slapped—her pride as a princess took a blow. She became the laughingstock of all Great Yong, losing to a mere village girl. She couldn't accept it; she was a princess, after all, and her royal pride wouldn't allow such a defeat.
In retaliation, Jiahui launched attacks against the village girl, but this only drew criticism from the public. People called her malicious, claiming she was bringing shame to the Yong dynasty. Even the Emperor began to express disappointment in her.
As Jiahui continued to stir up trouble, the streets buzzed with gossip about a princess trying to snatch another woman's man. Her reputation sank even lower.
Then, disaster struck: the Huns won the war and requested a marriage alliance. The Emperor, thoroughly disappointed in Jiahui, decided to send her away.
Duan Xinghui's reckless decisions had led to this disastrous turn of events. If he hadn't tried to impress everyone with grand gestures, he wouldn't have fallen for a scheme that the people of the Central Plain saw as crude. Now they expected Jiahui to marry and live happily ever after?
Jiahui, a delicate and pampered princess, had already suffered heartbreak mourning Duan Xinghui. Now, she was headed to a harsh environment where women were treated poorly, and her status as a princess afforded her no protection—only more bullying from these barbaric people. She became nothing more than a spoil of war.
The Huns were cruel and would strike a woman at the slightest provocation. Jiahui's life became worse than death. Her heart grew numb as the sandy wind corroded her once-flower-like beauty. She lived in a daze, wondering what she had done to deserve this.
The original host's wishes were clear: she no longer wanted to love that cruel Duan Xinghui, she wanted those two to suffer for what they'd done, and she wanted to remain a noble and untarnished princess. She didn't want to disappoint her Imperial Older Brother or be married off to some savage place. She didn't want to be humiliated or insulted.
Ning Shu couldn't help but feel a bit speechless. In the end, this girl was still hung up on it all. Duan Xinghui was the root of all Jiahui's sorrows, like the key that opened Pandora's box.
What struck Ning Shu as particularly ironic was that she had entered the story late. By now, news of Duan Xinghui's death had already spread, and Jiahui was resolute in her heartbreak, practically wishing to die and follow him. As it stood, she was already entangled in Duan Xinghui's life.