Frail beauty was forced to marry in place of someone,he prayed every day for prince to die soon.
storyline👨❤💋👨：
He had weak ties with his family and a frail, sickly body. The national advisor once divined for him, predicting a great calamity would befall him at the age of eighteen—if he survived it, he would live a smooth and prosperous life thereafter.
Right after his eighteenth birthday, his family treated him like a discard. They schemed to make him take someone else’s place in a marriage, sending him off to the "God of Death"—a man feared by everyone in the capital—to die.
—Rumors said the God of Death had been severely injured on the battlefield, and when his madness flared up, he killed without mercy.
He thought to himself, "Well, at least the God of Death won’t live much longer. As long as I hold out until he breathes his last, I’ll get through this calamity."
He prayed to gods and bowed to Buddhas, wholeheartedly begging for the man to die soon and ascend to paradise.
When he went to the Huguo Temple to draw lots, he asked for "the prince’s good health"—and drew the worst possible lot.
He was so overjoyed that tears welled up in his eyes on the spot.
The prince saw the tears he was struggling to hold back, and his heart stirred slightly.
Could this person have such deep feelings for me?
Lately, "the God of Death marrying a male spouse" had become a hot topic of conversation in the capital. Everyone thought this "princess consort" would not live past three months. But no one expected the once gloomy and fierce God of Death to soften overnight—he was extremely considerate to him, flew into a rage to protect his loved one when danger arose, and even when his madness erupted, he never harmed him in the slightest.
He had never been valued so much by anyone before. Overwhelmed by this unexpected kindness, he made up his mind: if he survived the calamity, he would spend the rest of his life with the prince.
Yet later, the prince still died.
He kept vigil by the coffin for three days on a snowy night, his heart as cold and barren as dead wood. Amidst the turbulent power shifts in the capital, a new emperor ascended the throne.
Clad in plain white mourning clothes, the frail, beautiful man wandered in a daze, clutching his late husband’s relics, with nowhere to turn. Malicious people in the capital coveted him, plotting to seize him for themselves.
Until a man dressed in black brocade arrived, surrounded by attendants. Everyone knelt down and prostrated themselves, shouting "Long live Your Majesty!"
—it was none other than the prince, who had faked his death to escape, and now ruled over the entire kingdom.
Everyone expected him to be overjoyed that his "late husband" had come back to life. But instead, they saw him stumble forward, kneel down to pay his respects, and address the man:
"Your Majesty."
The supreme ruler, standing high above, suddenly turned deathly pale.
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