Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 77: Venomous Snake

   Darker than the night itself was perhaps the manure cart in front of her, covered with its lid.

Having avoided prying eyes the whole way, Wei Yingluo arrived at the courtyard where the night-soil carts were parked. She lifted the cover and looked inside—then let out a sharp cry and stumbled back several steps.

The pale moonlight shone into the cart.

Manager Zhang was already a cold, lifeless corpse.

But the cause of his death was definitely not the single blow to the back of the head. His entire body was covered in venomous snakes. One of them was coiled around his neck, rearing up its brightly colored upper body and hissing at Wei Yingluo, flicking its forked tongue.

Where did these venomous snakes come from? No—who put these venomous snakes here?

“Are you here to silence a witness?” A pleasant voice rang out from behind Wei Yingluo, each word clear and crisp like the tinkling of spring water.

Wei Yingluo slowly turned her head and saw Yuan Chunwang step out from behind a tree, walking toward her unhurriedly. His calm and composed bearing made it seem as though this place belonged to him, and he had merely come out to greet a guest who had been waiting for him for a long time.

“…It wasn’t me who killed him,” Wei Yingluo said, her voice somewhat hoarse. “When I got here, he was already dead… killed by these snakes…”

“What a fitting way for him to die,” Yuan Chunwang said with a smile. “A single blow to the head would have been far too cheap for him. This is much better—unable to live, unable to die, suffering the whole night long, and in the end dying with eyes wide open.”

His tone was far too relaxed, and the details he described were far too precise. Wei Yingluo couldn’t help blurting out:

“…Was it you?”

“If it wasn’t me, then it was you,” Yuan Chunwang said, glancing past her toward something behind her.

Wei Yingluo hid the carrying pole behind her back a little more and shook her head. “You’re wrong. I’ve never even killed a chicken—how could I possibly kill a person?”

“Oh?” Yuan Chunwang gave a half-smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Really?”

A moment later, Wei Yingluo burst into laughter—a smile so identical to Yuan Chunwang’s that it seemed to mirror his own. “False. If you didn’t kill him, I would have. A bastard like that who tortures palace maids to death—I naturally had to get rid of him, so he wouldn’t be released outside the palace and go on harming others.”

“And so he wouldn’t wake up and come looking for revenge against us,” Yuan Chunwang added. He clasped his hands behind his back and strolled over until he stood right in front of Wei Yingluo. “Cut the grass and remove the roots, eliminate future trouble once and for all. Finally, you’ve stopped pretending to be an innocent, kind-hearted little palace maid! Wei Yingluo, I like this version of you very much—because deep down, you and I are exactly the same kind of person!”

Wei Yingluo gazed at him quietly. How could she ever have thought he was some sensitive, pitiful little creature? This was clearly a brilliantly colored venomous snake—its appearance as vivid as its poison was deadly.

His footsteps halted right before her. Yuan Chunwang gave her a gentle smile. “Now we’re on the same side.”

“…On the same side?” Wei Yingluo blinked.

“Of course.” Yuan Chunwang tilted his chin toward Manager Zhang’s direction. “We both had a hand in this. You cover for me, I cover for you—what else could we be but comrades?”

A breeze blew from the direction of Manager Zhang, carrying the faint stench of a corpse along with the low hiss of a snake.

Wei Yingluo pressed her lips together. A strand of hair clung to her lower lip; as she reached up to brush it away, Yuan Chunwang moved first—his finger gently lifted the strand past her lips.

“…What are you doing?” Wei Yingluo quickly stepped back, brows furrowing. “Do you have any idea how rude that is to a woman?”

“Have you forgotten who I am?” Yuan Chunwang laughed carelessly. “Between you and me, there are no such things as propriety between men and women—what are you getting nervous about? Besides, I’m hardly some well-bred gentleman raised on Confucian rules. I’ve never been molded by etiquette, so where would rudeness even come from?”

Wei Yingluo bit her lip. Ever since he had revealed his true face in front of her, he had grown bolder and bolder. In the end she could only say helplessly, “The palace maids in the Laundry Cleaning Department all adore you so much—I have no desire to become a target for their jealousy!”

Yuan Chunwang scoffed with icy disdain. “Rest assured—this is the Yong Alley.”

Wei Yingluo was taken aback. “What do you mean?”

“The lowest, most despised palace maids of the Laundry Cleaning Department still look down on the filthy eunuchs who haul the night-soil carts. Their so-called ‘liking’ is nothing more than chasing after a pretty face—just like that Jinxiu in your room—” He paused, then smiled with serpentine allure.

Wei Yingluo felt a chill. Of all people, he chose to mention Jinxiu. What did he mean? Could it be that, just like her, he had secretly followed and observed, and knew about the grudge between her and Jinxiu?

“…Jinxiu never sets foot in a place like this either! I can’t afford to accept that kind of ‘liking.’” Yuan Chunwang finished the sentence he had left hanging earlier.

Wei Yingluo studied him deeply, her voice turning a little dry. “Yuan Chunwang, is that why you despise them?”

“I don’t love women,” Yuan Chunwang said calmly.

Wei Yingluo was stunned. “Then you like… men?”

Yuan Chunwang threw his head back and laughed. “I don’t love men either.”

“You don’t love men, and you don’t love women…” Wei Yingluo stared at him as the answer became obvious.

“I only love myself,” Yuan Chunwang stated frankly. One hand gently lifted Wei Yingluo’s chin; he lowered his gaze to look down at her and said in a soft voice, “You’re the same. Wei Yingluo, Fucha Fuheng stands in the sunlight, while you can only stand in the shadows. The two of you will never have a future. In the end, you’ll realize no one loves you—the only one who will ever love you is yourself.”

Wei Yingluo’s eyes widened. Suddenly she seized the unruly hand that still held her chin and asked in a low, serious voice, “That day you didn’t leave—you were watching from the side, weren’t you?”

She had asked this question several times before, but every time she received no answer.

Until today, Yuan Chunwang looked at her, the smile on his face slowly widening—whether it was teasing or mockery was impossible to tell. Laughing, he said, “Yes, I didn’t leave. I saw… I saw everything.”

Because of those words, Wei Yingluo couldn’t sleep properly for several nights.

Three days later, with two dark panda-like circles under her eyes, she was wearily pulling weeds, her mind weighed down with heavy thoughts.

The sun blazed high overhead. The palace maids pulling weeds alongside her were drenched in sweat; drop after drop fell to the ground only to be instantly evaporated by the scorching heat.

One palace maid wiped the sweat from her forehead and said, “Hey, have you all heard? Manager Zhang has really gone missing! Chief Steward Wu is furious—says he was unreliable and irresponsible in his duties, and that when they catch him he’ll be severely punished!”

“Hmph,” another maid beside her snorted. “That kind of beast is better off disappearing forever!”

“Still got energy to chat? Have you finished your work?” Momo Liu’s voice cut in abruptly. “Wait—get up, get up! Everyone up! Clear the way for the master!”

All the working palace maids immediately stopped what they were doing and turned to face the wall. Only Wei Yingluo forgot to avert her gaze; she remained squatting on the ground, staring dazedly at the approaching imperial palanquin of the Empress.

Slap! A fiery sting exploded across Wei Yingluo’s back. She turned to see Momo Liu standing behind her, whip in hand, eyes glaring with terrifying ferocity.

Wei Yingluo clenched her teeth, knelt, and retreated, blending into the vast sea of palace maids like an insignificant drop of rain.

The palanquin passed behind her. The palanquin moved away. She didn’t know whether the person inside had seen her. She didn’t know whether the person inside had sighed for her sake.

“Wei Yingluo, you are now nothing but a lowly servant in the Cleansing Division,” Momo Liu walked up beside her, using the handle of the whip to lift her chin. Her smile was full of malice as she reminded her, “Do you really think the Empress still remembers you? Don’t dream of escaping this sea of suffering. Behave yourself and work obediently!”

Wei Yingluo slowly lowered her head.

Though Manager Zhang was dead, her situation had not improved. On the contrary, her days grew harder and her tasks heavier, as if someone—someone especially powerful and highly placed—had given the order to torment her.

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