Favoring a Concubine and Ruining the Wife? I Remarried the Crown Prince and Exterminated the Scumbag’s Family - Reviews

I started reading this chapter at like 11pm and I swear I didn't stop until 2am. The pacing is absolutely relentless. It opens with Chief Astronomer Jiang storming into the Song residence, already furious, and from there it's just one revelation after another. First the fire accusation, then the servants' testimony, then Jiang Zhaoying turning the tables on Madam Song, then the Song Chengyu confrontation, then the fake death reveal, and THEN Shen Yuefu gets dragged in as living proof. Each beat lands like a punch and you're just waiting for the next one. What I love most is how the author controls the information flow. We don't know Song Chengyu's true intentions until we're deep into the scene, and even then we only get glimpses through his internal thoughts. The reveal about Shen Yuefu not being a virgin? That comes at the very end, with Jiang Zhaoying's gaze drifting to her arm and Shen Yuefu turning pale. It's a perfect cliffhanger. And the scene transitions are seamless - you go from the heated argument about the fire to the emotional confrontation with Song Chengyu to the shocking entrance of Shen Yuefu and it all feels natural, like these conversations are just escalating organically. The author also does this great thing where they let moments breathe. After Jiang Zhaoying slaps Song Chengyu, there's this beat of silence where everyone just stares at him. You can feel the weight of that moment. Then she immediately pivots to the real question about the fake death. No wasted words, no filler. Every sentence drives the scene forward.

There's this underlying current in the text about fate and cosmic justice that I can't stop thinking about. The Jiang family has served as Chief Astronomers for a century — they read the stars, they divine fortunes, they understand the hidden patterns of the world. And Chief Astronomer Jiang saw this calamity coming. He knew his daughter would enter the Song residence and face disaster. He performed additional divinations. He sent her as a protective measure. But the Song family — they're playing with forces they don't understand. They think they can manipulate events, frame an innocent girl, fake a death, all while the stars are watching. Xu Zhiyan's speech about the baleful star besieging the Song residence is basically the universe saying: you thought you were the hunters, but you're the prey. The Heart's Blood detail is particularly symbolic. The Emperor is dying because of some cosmic imbalance, and the Song family's son — who faked his death — is the key to saving him. It's almost poetic justice. The stars have calculated everything, and the Song family's schemes are just noise against the grand design. Jiang Zhaoying's past life is another layer — she was deceived, she died, and now she's back with knowledge. The theme of cycles and second chances is woven throughout. Can she break the pattern this time? The stars may know, but the reader doesn't — and that uncertainty is what keeps us turning pages.

Let me just lay out the stakes because they are INSANE and I need everyone to understand what's happening here. Jiang Zhaoying is in a room full of people who want her dead. The Song family has orchestrated her husband's fake death to frame her as a husband-killer. If she stays, she'll be forced to swear eternal servitude as a widow. If she leaves, Madam Song will literally throw herself at a pillar and make it look like Jiang Zhaoying murdered her too. There is no winning move — unless you count the imperial edict arriving at the perfect moment. But here's what makes the stakes even higher: Song Chengyu is supposedly dead, but he's actually faking it. If the imperial physicians discover he's alive, the entire Song family's scheme collapses. And if they're caught plotting against the Emperor's interests... that's not just death, that's extermination. The whole household could be wiped out. Jiang Zhaoying knows none of this though. She's walking into this blind, relying on her father's calculations and her martial brothers' loyalty. When she says "these in-laws are not worth keeping," she's not just being sassy — she's making a survival calculation. She'd rather face an angry mob than spend eternity serving people who want her dead. The fact that she stands there, surrounded, with her two maids at her back, and doesn't flinch — that's the kind of courage that makes you root for her instantly. She has everything to lose and she's still standing. What happens next?? I need to know.

Let me think about what this whole sequence is actually about beneath the revenge plot. The ancestral hall isn't just a building — it's the physical manifestation of everything that trapped Jiang Zhaoying in her first life. Those memorial tablets represent ancestors who 'ate her food, drank her offerings' and never once protected her. She knelt in snow for four hours under their supposed watchful presence and they did nothing. So when she sets fire to the hall, she's not just destroying wood and paper — she's burning the entire system of filial piety that was used to control and crush her. The line 'One lifetime of allowing them to run wild, and now a second lifetime of wanting to stand by and do nothing?' — this is the core question of the whole novel. What do we owe to people who never owed us anything? The memorial tablet she saves is the most important symbol here. It's the one tablet that represents genuine grief — a father's vow to his dead son, a mother's silent sorrow. By rescuing it, Jiang Zhaoying is making a distinction: not all devotion is blind obedience. Some reverence is earned. The fire cleanses what was corrupt but spares what was real. And Madam Song the Third, who says 'How can a young girl endure such accusations?' — she's the only one who sees through the performance. The whole Song family is built on performative piety and hidden affairs (Clan Leader Song's twenty-year secret with Madam Song). The fire exposes all of it.

Okay I need to talk about the Third Madam Song and that memorial tablet because honestly I am not okay. So Jiang Zhaoying burns down the ancestral hall — which, revenge goals, I respect — but then she carefully retrieves ONE tablet. The one belonging to a dead ten-year-old boy whose father swore he'd never take family assets just so his son could be enshrined. And she hands it to Shu Yun with this line: "Tell her she can come join the commotion later if she wishes." Like, that is somehow both the most vicious and the most tender thing I have ever read. The Third Madam, who had been silently sipping tea in the corner while everyone else screamed, receives that tablet and something in her shifts. She's lost a son. She's only had a daughter since. And this woman who just burned her family's ancestral hall to the ground went back into the flames to save her boy's spirit tablet. That is the kind of detail that makes you sit with your phone staring at the screen. Meanwhile, Jiang Zhaoying catches Xu Zhiyan's furious gaze and just — purses her lips. A gesture "as light as a feather brushing against his heart." ONE GESTURE and his rage dissipates. I swear the author doesn't even need more words. And Shen Liuguang showing up at the end, bowing like a ghost from her past, while she returns the courtesy with trembling lashes — I'm already writing fanfiction in my head. This book does not play fair with my emotions.

The dialogue in this section is SO distinct for each character it's almost unfair. Let me just lay out why this works so well. The Emperor—his voice is lazy, dismissive, almost bored. "Enough. Young Master Song, you must live well with Zhaoying from now on. I am tired. All of you may withdraw." He's thinking about summoning new beauties and these political marriages are just background noise to him. The casual cruelty of a man who holds everyone's fate in his hands and can't be bothered to care. Madam Song and Song Chengyu—scheming, sharp, desperate. "Your Majesty, you once said that when Chengyu marries, you would allow him to inherit the marquisate." They're calculating every word, every bow, every display of "maidenly charm." Their dialogue is transactional, which makes perfect sense because that's exactly what their relationship with Jiang Zhaoying is. Wei Jiuzhao—warm, concerned, slightly formal. "Ying'er, firstly, you must be careful, and secondly, if anything happens, you must tell us." The double bullet point structure of his care is so endearing. He's their senior brother but he speaks like a worried parent. Xu Zhiyan—quiet, restrained, but when he speaks it cuts. "No matter what method is used, you must secure a divorce!" One line and you feel the desperation underneath. And the Crown Prince—each word is measured, cold, razor-sharp. "If you are wrong, what then?" "But what if I still do not believe you?" He doesn't raise his voice once. He doesn't need to.

Okay so let me just say - the way this chapter unraveled the ancestral hall fire plot was absolutely satisfying. You've got Madam Song trying to pin everything on Jiang Zhaoying, claiming she set fire to the Song clan's most sacred space, and then Jiang Zhaoying just... drops the truth bomb. The fire wasn't her doing at all. Madam Song orchestrated it because she was already seething after Song Chengyu abandoned his wife. And get this - Jiang Zhaoying was literally about to be punished by kneeling in the ancestral hall when the fire started. The servants even testify they saw candles toppled and wind spreading the flames. But here's where it gets even better - right when everyone thinks this is just about the fire, Jiang Zhaoying pivots and asks the real question: why did Song Chengyu fake his death and run off with Shen Yuefu? And then Wei Jiuzhao brings Shen Yuefu in bound and gagged like some kind of living evidence. The plot layers here are insane. Every time you think the conflict is about X, it turns out to be about Y, and then Z comes crashing in. The fake death reveal, the framed arson, the secret cousin relationship - it's all connected and it all comes to a head in this one scene. I literally gasped when Jiang Zhaoying slapped Song Chengyu. That moment was so deserved.

"There were no words on the paper. But there was a piece of candy!" I read that sentence five times. FIVE TIMES. And I'm not okay. Xu Zhiyan. Sweet, quiet Xu Zhiyan who has been guarding Jiang Zhaoying for eighteen years, who hid his feelings so perfectly that even Wei Jiuzhao only just figured it out, who sat in that carriage looking at her with his eyes full of heartache and then deliberately looked away and put on that cool, detached mask—he gives her a piece of candy. No words. Just candy. Because he knows she can't have words. He knows she can't have him. He knows this is the last moment before she walks into the palace and possibly never comes back the same. And Jiang Zhaoying? She's standing there in the middle of her husband's fake death ceremony, her mother-in-law being dragged away screaming, her own future hanging by a thread, and she unwraps this tiny piece of candy and the sweetness makes her cry. The text says "large tears fell from her eyes." Not a single sob, not a dramatic breakdown. Just tears. Because that candy was the only honest thing in a room full of liars. Meanwhile Wei Jiuzhao is sitting right there feeling like a fishbone in his throat, watching Xu Zhiyan pat his shoulder like he's the one who understands her, and he's the FIRST senior disciple. Eighteen years. Eighteen years of being the responsible one, the big-picture one, and she still chose to give him her letter to the second brother. The romance in this book doesn't shout. It whispers. And that's what kills me.

The visual transformation of the Song residence in this chapter is absolutely cinematic and I need to discuss it. One moment you have a wedding celebration—lanterns, guests, festive atmosphere filling the gardens. The next moment, within what feels like hours, the entire place has been stripped and remade. "Servants began hanging white funeral banners everywhere and replacing the lanterns with white ones." Can you imagine that? Red lanterns coming down, white ones going up. The color palette of an entire household flipped from celebration to mourning in real time. And then the carriages. "Carriages lined up one after another at the entrance of the Song residence." Like a funeral procession, but they're not going to a graveyard—they're going to the palace. The imagery of Jiang Zhaoying watching Eunuch Chen and her senior brothers leave, unable to speak to them because the eunuch is present, then turning to find that candy in her palm—that is a scene I will not forget. The Dragon Hidden Hall description gave me chills too. The Emperor leaning against a soft cushion, hair slightly disheveled, face pale with a bluish tint. The faint scent of medicine lingering in the air. Eunuch Wu holding the medicine bowl. A palace maid wiping sweat from his forehead. This is a man who is literally dying while everyone around him is performing. The hall itself feels like a stage where death and survival are being negotiated in real time. The author doesn't need grand descriptions of palaces or gardens. The power is in these small, precise visual details that make you feel like you're standing in the room.

Let me just say this about Madam Song — she is the WORST. And I love her for it. The way she throws herself on the bed clutching her dead son, wailing about how Jiang Zhaoying killed him, while secretly stealing glances to see if the girl is about to break and confess... the MANIPULATION is real. She's not actually mourning, she's performing. And she's good at it. But what really got under my skin is how Jiang Zhaoying watches all of this and thinks: no wonder I was deceived in my past life. Everyone around me became an accomplice to my death. That line hit me like a truck. The Song family isn't just evil — they're the kind of evil that looks like family. They look out for each other, they cry together, they scheme together. And Jiang Zhaoying is the outsider who sees through all of it. Then there's Shu Yun and Shu Yu — her maids who pull out hairpins and stand between her and an angry mob. The loyalty in that moment? I actually got emotional. These women would die for her. And Jiang Zhaoying reaching back to hold their hands and smiling through tears — that's the kind of bond that makes you want to protect these characters forever. Xu Zhiyan and Wei Jiuzhao watching her from afar, their cold expressions cracking just slightly when they see her... the tension there is UNREAL. Who are these men and why do I already ship them so hard??

Let me think about what this chapter is really saying beneath the surface. The ancestral hall - that sacred space where the Song clan's ancestors rest - is destroyed. And who destroys it? Not an outsider. Not a rival family. It's Madam Song, the matriarch of the clan itself, who orchestrates the fire to frame her own daughter-in-law. This feels like such a deliberate symbolic choice. The ancestral hall represents the clan's unity, its traditions, its moral authority. And it's being burned down from the inside by the very people who are supposed to protect it. The Song clan claims to be a respectable family, but they're out here committing atrocities against women - framing Jiang Zhaoying, trying to force her to pay for rebuilding, attempting to kill her through Song Chengyu's slow torture fantasy. Meanwhile, Jiang Zhaoying stands there with her medicinal-stained clothes, having been punished for a crime she didn't commit, and she's the most morally upright person in the room. There's also the symbolism of the fire itself. Fire is purification, but also destruction. The Song clan's version of 'filial piety' - making a newlywed daughter-in-law fund the reconstruction - is actually deeply unfilial. They're using tradition as a weapon. And Shen Yuefu's false purity? The Chastity Sand detail is such a powerful symbol of how women's bodies and reputations are policed in this world. She claims to be 'pure and unsullied' but clearly she's not. The whole system is built on lies and the author is tearing it down piece by piece.

The pacing in these chapters is absolutely masterful and I need to break it down because the author really knows how to control the reader's heartbeat. We start in media res — Jiang Zhaoying is already surrounded, already accused, already in danger. No slow buildup, no gentle warm-up. Just throw the reader into the fire and make them swim. The accusations pile up one after another: she killed him, she's a demon, she's a vixen, take her life. Each accusation is a hammer blow and the courtyard feels like it's closing in. I was genuinely holding my breath. Then Jiang Zhaoying speaks. She says divorce. The room goes silent. And for a second, I thought — is this the turning point? Is she going to win? No. It gets WORSE. Madam Song threatens to throw herself at a pillar. The Song relatives close in. Shu Yun and Shu Yu pull out hairpins. The killing intent soars. The reader is at peak tension, about to explode. And THEN — "An imperial decree from His Majesty has arrived!" The release is instantaneous. The crowd freezes. The power dynamic flips completely. The imperial physicians appear. The truth about Song Chengyu's feigned death is about to be exposed. The pacing went from suffocating to explosive in a single sentence and I was left breathless. This is how you write a chapter. Every beat serves the tension. Nothing is wasted. I stayed up way too late reading this.