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Transmigrated Hood Princess: Master Wu's Wife is not Weak

When sassy, street-smart Amber from Chicago's roughest neighborhood finds herself transmigrated into Song Yanyan's curvy form, she's in for a rude awakening. Trapped in the gilded cage of Wuhan's snobby elite society, Amber must quickly adapt her gangster wit and tough spirit to this new, foreign world. However, Amber is no wilting flower. With her brave hood mentality and sharp tongue, she turns Master Wu's mission upside down. As she unravels the dark secrets behind her new identity, Amber goes toe-to-toe with the arrogant young master, their flames of rivalry soon sparking an unexpected passion. In this world of decadence and deceit, Amber must fight to replace Song Yanyan's meek persona with her bold, unapologetic flair. From intense clashes to wild romantic entanglements, she'll deliver scorching face-slaps to any who dare underestimate the transmigrated hood princess. Brimming with drama, action, laughter, and jaw-dropping revelations, one thing is certain - Master Wu's wife is no shrinking violet. Can this fish-out-of-water hood princess rise as the elite world's feistiest new queen?

FlameWitch · แฟนตาซี
Not enough ratings
144 Chs

Chapter 31

Author's POV:

The lavish Zheng family estate was a bastion of opulence and old money prestige. But on this evening, its hallowed halls rang with an undercurrent of palpable tension and menace.

Zheng Mei stormed through the front doors, body practically vibrating with impotent rage. How dare that uncouth peasant lay hands upon her elite person so brazenly? Flinging her designer bag aside, she let out a primal scream of fury.

This insult could not stand. The ill-bred guttersnipe would learn the catastrophic consequences of crossing the illustrious Zheng dynasty.

"Mei? Whatever has you so riled, girl?" Mei's mother swept in, perfectly coiffed in designer silk.

"That filthy whore from school!" Mei spat, quaking with barely restrained violence. "She dared assault me today in front of everyone! The utter indignity!"

Her mother's urbane mask remained unruffled. "My, such brazen audacity against one of our esteemed stature. Though I can scarcely fathom any schoolgirl possessing such temerity."

The subtle mockery jarred Mei's senses. Of course her indifferent mother wouldn't take this heinous offense seriously. For true recourse, she'd need more forceful intervention higher up the family ranks.

"Where's Xiong?" She demanded of her elder brother arriving home. "That low-born filth has gone too far. I demand he take immediate action!"

Zheng Xiong strolled in, casual grace and lingering scents of cigar smoke clinging to his tailored suit. "Whatever crisis demands such undignified histrionics this time, baby sis?"

Mei seized his lapel, startling him. "That crass freak who attacked me physically on school grounds yesterday! She's trampled all over our dynasty's boundaries!"

A heavy silence fell over the foyer. Then, Xiong's carefully curated facade shattered into incandescent rage.

"She dared lay hands on you?" He hissed, eyes blazing with fury that crackled like static electricity. He didn't know such incident had occurred since he had not returned home the previous day.

Mei had seen her brother's infamous temper before, but never this naked, visceral maelstrom unleashed into the open. A flicker of unease prickled her nerves - had she awoken something too powerful to contain?

"That uncouth mongrel bitch has crossed the line," Xiong rumbled with deadly menace. "She'll learn a brutal lesson in respecting her betters."

"Indeed," their mother chimed in, something ravenous flickering in her cold stare as she approached. "It would never do to leave such an offense against our name unpunished. This gutter rat needs a harsh carving into her worthless hide as a warning."

A shudder rippled through Mei as her family radiated murderous intent. She'd opened the floodgates to unrepentant savagery by pleading for vengeance. But the burning humiliation refused to allow for second thoughts.

If her formidable dynasty wished to meter that subhuman mongrel the harshest disciplinary awakening of her life, then so be it. She had invited this apocalyptic storm upon her own worthless head.

All that remained was for Mei to bask in the cathartic rapture of watching the wretch's world shredded apart at the seams...by the ruthless machinations of pure, devastating wealth and power.

*********************

On a secluded island, far from the bustling cities

Within the grand palace halls, the air was thick with tension and desperation. The aging King sat upon his throne, his weathered face contorted in a mask of fury as he berated his most trusted advisor.

"You incompetent fool!" The King's voice thundered, shaking the very foundations. "How many wives have you paraded before me, promising they would bear me an heir to continue our dynasty's reign? And yet, here I remain - childless and growing older with each passing day!"

The advisor cowered, head bowed in remorse. "Your Majesty, I have scoured the lands far and wide, bringing you the finest maidens from noble bloodlines. But alas, fate seems determined to defy your desires for an heir."

The King slammed his fist against the armrest, eyes blazing with impotent rage. "Do not speak to me of fate or bloodlines! This is a matter of securing my legacy, of ensuring our family does not lose its grip on this island after centuries of rule."

Silence hung heavy as the advisor dared to raise his head, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. "Perhaps, Your Majesty, we have been searching in the wrong places all this time."

The King's brow furrowed, a spark of curiosity mingling with his anger. "Explain yourself."

"There was...a woman, many years ago," the advisor began cautiously. "A commoner from the city, but one who managed to capture your heart and bear your child before your father intervened."

A pained expression flickered across the King's features, memories long buried stirring to life. "You speak of that woman?," he murmured, her name a whisper on his lips. "My father was consumed by rage when he discovered our love, deeming her unfit to birth an heir of royal blood."

The advisor nodded solemnly. "He told you she had terminated the pregnancy, but...what if that was a lie? A cruel deception to sever your bond and ensure you adhered to his archaic traditions?"

The King's eyes widened, hope and anguish warring within him. "You believe my child with her could still live? After all these years, surviving the wrath of my father's actions?"

"It is possible, Your Majesty," the advisor pressed on. "She was a strong, resilient woman. Perhaps she gave birth and raised the baby in another place seeing that you had left her."

For a moment, the King was silent, his mind whirling with the implications. To have a child out there, his own flesh and blood, carrying the legacy he so desperately sought to preserve – it was almost too much to fathom.

"I tried searching for her in the years after my father's passing," he said at last, weariness etched into his face. "But it was as if she had vanished into thin air, leaving no trace behind."

The advisor took a step forward, conviction burning in his eyes. "Then we must try again, Your Majesty. Scour every corner of the realm if need be, but do not give up hope. Your child, the true heir to your throne, may yet be out there waiting to be found."

The King rose to his feet, his shoulders squaring with renewed determination. "You speak true, old friend. I have dwelled in the shadow of my father's cruelty for far too long. It is time I cast off those shackles and fought for the family I was denied all those years ago."

His gaze swept across the grand hall, a silent vow to the ancestors who had come before him. "I will not let our dynasty crumble into the hands of those vultures circling, waiting for our downfall. My child, wherever they may be, will take their rightful place upon this throne – even if I must tear apart the world to find them."

The King paced the throne room, his mind racing with possibilities.

"If what you say is true, and my father did indeed deceive me about her..." His voice trailed off as he grappled with the implications. "Then my child could be out there, somewhere, unaware of their birthright."

The advisor watched him carefully, giving his liege a moment to process this revelation. "Your father was a proud man, obsessed with maintaining the purity of the royal bloodline," he said carefully. "Even if it meant tearing apart your happiness."

The King's jaw clenched at the memory of his father's callous actions. "He never did understand the depth of my love for that woman. To him, she was just a common girl unworthy of bearing an heir to the throne."

Turning to face his advisor, fire burned in his eyes. "I want every resource at our disposal dedicated to finding her - or our child, if she is..." He couldn't bring himself to voice the possibility that she might be lost to him forever.

"Of course, Your Majesty." The advisor bowed his head respectfully. "I will dispatch search parties across the realm immediately. No stone shall be left unturned."

"Spare no expense," the King ordered, his stance firm and unyielding. "I want scouts exploring even the most remote villages and outposts. Anyone with knowledge, no matter how insignificant it may seem, is to be questioned extensively."

A heavy silence blanketed the throne room as the weight of this decree settled over them both. After so many years of resigned acceptance, daring to dream of finding his lost love - or their child - was almost too overwhelming to comprehend.

"And if..." The King faltered momentarily before regaining his composure. "If we discover the unfortunate truth that she did indeed perish at my father's hand, then we must turn our efforts towards locating our offspring alone."

The advisor inclined his head solemnly. "Understood, Your Majesty. We will exhaust every available avenue until the truth, whatever it may be, is uncovered."

His gaze became distant, haunted by the decades of longing and unanswered questions. "I can only pray the years have been kinder to them than fate was to their mother and I. And that they will accept the truth of their legacy when it is finally laid bare."

The advisor gave a firm nod, his own expression set. "Have faith, my liege. The blood of conquerors and kings flows through your child's veins, just as it does your own. When the truth is revealed, they will embrace it - and take their rightful place as the heir you have longed for."

A glimmer of hope, long smothered beneath the ashes of despair, flickered to life in the King's eyes. He knew the road ahead would be an arduous one, fraught with unforeseen obstacles and heartbreak. But his renewed determination was unshakable.

Squaring his shoulders, he turned to face the advisor fully. "Then let the search commence anew, with unrelenting fervor. I will accept no other outcome save uncovering the truth - no matter how many years or distances we must pursue it."

With those words hanging heavy in the air, the King swept from the throne room, his mind already strategizing the expansive search to come. His child, the lost prince or princess, was out there somewhere.

And this time, nothing would stop him from claiming them as the heir to his throne - and his legacy - once and for all.