Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 14: Administering Medicine

Wei Yingluo laughed.

“If you don’t know her, how could you be so certain that her embroidery is better than mine?” She sighed and lifted the embroidery frame in her hands. “My embroidery was taught to me by her. She taught with care, and I learned with care…”

From childhood, Wei Yingning had idolized her older sister. While most twin sisters wanted to be different from each other, she wished she could be exactly the same as her sister in every way.

So she copied her sister’s way of dressing and making up, imitated her every expression and smile, learned her way of walking—and also learned her embroidery.

“My talent is limited. Though I received ten-tenths of her true teaching, at most I only mastered seven or eight parts,” Wei Yingluo said to Momo Zhang. “So you’re right—when it comes to embroidery, Yingning is better.”

Momo Zhang remained silent for a long while.

“…Tell me about her,” Wei Yingluo said softly. “She once served in the embroidery workshop too. Perhaps she even worked under you?”

“There are so many people in the embroidery workshop—palace maids and embroidery women hired from outside. With so much work, who has time to remember all their names?” Momo Zhang replied expressionlessly. “Speaking of which, have you finished today’s tasks?”

Momo Zhang flatly denied it and awkwardly changed the subject, but Wei Yingluo could not let this opportunity slip away. She lowered her head obediently, her voice carrying a trace of pleading as she spoke to Momo Zhang:

“Momo, I’m young and ignorant, and I’m not good at making friends. I’ve been in the palace for so long and still haven’t made many. You’re the only one I can rely on. I beg you—please give me some guidance… How can I avoid repeating Wei Yingning’s tragedy?”

Momo Zhang fell silent once again.

This time, Wei Yingluo did not press her. Only masters have the right to hurry their servants. She was not the master; on the contrary, she worked under Momo Zhang—barely counting as a subordinate and servant to her.

Whether Momo Zhang would answer her question depended entirely on the goodwill she had painstakingly built up over the past month through flattery and compliance… and on how much weight her sister still carried in Momo Zhang’s heart.

Time passed minute by minute. Wei Yingluo kept her head lowered. The burning heat in her chest gradually began to cool. Was Momo Zhang refusing to answer because one month was simply too short? Indeed, she had been too impatient. She should have been more patient, spent several more months getting closer to her…

“…The palace is full of taboos. For example, the person you just mentioned.” Momo Zhang’s voice suddenly sounded above her head. “The third character in her name is Noble Consort Hui’s personal given name.”

Wei Yingluo looked up in shock.

Momo Zhang’s expression was extremely complicated. She did not look happy at all—no one would be pleased after being so obviously calculated against by a subordinate.

Yet even so, she still gave Wei Yingluo an answer.

“A Noble Lady’s personal name is not for servants to utter. So the person you spoke of must have changed her name here.” Momo Zhang spoke slowly. “This time I’ll let it pass, but don’t you dare mention that name anywhere else. If it reaches Noble Consort Hui’s ears, you’ll be in for a world of trouble! That’s enough work for today. You may go!”

“Momo…”

“Get out!”

The door of the Embroidery Workshop closed behind Wei Yingluo with a thud. She had practically been chased out by Momo Zhang.

Dazed and distracted, she returned to the palace maids’ quarters. Aunt Fang, seeing her back so early, immediately tossed several pairs of shoes and socks her way, ordering her to embroider beautiful patterns onto them.

Wei Yingluo embroidered absentmindedly. Several times the needle pricked her own finger. She put the bloodied, scar-covered finger into her mouth; the metallic, rusty taste of blood spread across her tongue.

“These emerald prayer beads look so pretty,” Jixiang said admiringly as she passed by.

Wei Yingluo lowered her head. Unbeknownst to her, she had somehow embroidered a string of emerald prayer beads onto the handkerchief. Looking at them now, what surfaced in her mind was a wrist wrapped in green prayer beads.

“Noble Consort Hui…” she murmured inwardly.

She had wondered when she might finally get the chance to see her face-to-face. She never imagined the opportunity would come so soon.

Several days later, in the Embroidery Workshop, Momo Zhang summoned Wei Yingluo and Jinxiu to her side and said to both of them:

“You two, come with me.”

Wei Yingluo and Jinxiu immediately set down their work and followed behind her.

The palace grounds were vast and deep, with winding corridors that twisted and turned. The three of them walked—one in front, two behind. As they went, Momo Zhang asked:

“Have you memorized the route?”

“Yes, Momo, I’ve memorized it,” Jinxiu answered quickly. She was always trying every way possible to leave a good impression on those above her.

But Momo Zhang smiled and asked, “Will you be able to find your own way back later?”

Jinxiu immediately fell silent. It was one thing to say it; doing it was another matter entirely. The paths ahead and behind looked exactly the same—this was an excellent defense against assassins, forcing them to waste huge amounts of time just trying to navigate. But it also defeated newcomers like her. One moment of inattention and she would be hopelessly lost.

If Momo Zhang really made her return alone, she would probably have to ask for directions the entire way back.

“The rules of the palace forbid wandering around freely. That’s why palace maids generally do not leave the palace where they serve unless ordered by their master to deliver something elsewhere.” Seeing her embarrassment, Momo Zhang did not scold her, only spoke calmly. “But you are from the Embroidery Workshop. You will frequently need to take measurements and make clothes for the various mistresses of the palaces. You must become familiar with the paths. Otherwise, after seven or eight turns, you won’t be able to find your way back—and you’ll risk delaying important tasks.”

“Yes!” Jinxiu hurriedly replied.

Yet from the exchange between the two of them, Wei Yingluo picked up something else. She asked:

“Momo, whose clothes are we going to make right now?”

Momo Zhang gave her a meaningful glance, then looked far ahead toward the red walls and green tiles in the distance. Calmly, she answered:

“Noble Consort Hui.”

Along the way afterward, Jinxiu appeared both nervous and excited.

Wei Yingluo knew she was once again eager to show off in front of the Noble Lady—but was Noble Consort Hui really someone so easy to please?

Although they hadn’t been in the palace long, they had already heard plenty about the various young mistresses of the different palaces. According to the older palace maids, the Empress spent her days chanting sutras and rarely involved herself in affairs, leaving the inner palace almost entirely under the control of Noble Consort Hui. This Noble Consort Hui was as beautiful as a peony, adored extravagance, and was utterly unpredictable in mood. When pleased, she would scoop up a handful of pearls and scatter them to the servants below. When displeased, she would scoop up another handful of pearls—not to scatter, but to order the servants to eat them one by one in front of her…

Beautiful and cruel—a peony steeped in poison.

“Noble Consort Your Highness, have mercy!!”

Before the three of them had even crossed the threshold into Noble Consort Hui’s sleeping chambers, a piercing scream rang in their ears.

“Kneel quickly!” Momo Zhang hurriedly called out, then dropped to her knees first.

Though they had no idea what was happening, it was best at times like this to imitate the seasoned palace veterans. Wei Yingluo promptly knelt as well, then stealthily glanced forward using the corner of her eye.

A woman dressed as a mistress seemed to have just fled from the direction of the main hall. In her haste, she had lost one shoe; with one foot shod and one bare and muddy, she ran toward them—only to be quickly seized by two sturdy palace maids behind her. She burst into desperate sobs: “Noble Consort Your Highness, please spare this concubine!”

Then, parting the flowers and willows like a curtain, a dazzling beauty adorned from head to toe in jewels and treasures emerged from behind the blossoms. Her right hand twined around a string of emerald prayer beads; long, jeweled false nails rested lightly on the arm of the maid beside her. With every step she took, the prayer beads, moon-shaped earrings, and golden step-shakers swayed, refracting a brilliant shimmer of gold and jade.

From a distance, she looked like a radiant figure seated upon the clouds.

Only when she drew closer did one realize that her own beauty rivaled the splendor of the jewels she wore.

“So this is Noble Consort Hui?” Wei Yingluo thought to herself.

She had heard so many rumors, every single one praising her beauty. Yet all those mouths, all those words of admiration, could not compare to even half of the reality standing before her.

When the peony bloomed, it outshone every other flower.

“What mercy or no mercy? If others hear you say such things, they’ll think this palace intends to harm you.” Noble Consort Hui slowly approached the woman dressed as a mistress, looking down at her from above. The corner of her lip curved upward. “Noble Lady Yu, if you are ill, you must take your medicine.”

“No—no!” The woman addressed as Noble Lady Yu shook her head frantically. “This concubine is not ill, this concubine…”

“Physician Liu!” Noble Consort Hui suddenly called out. “Why aren’t you hurrying to feed Noble Lady Yu her medicine?”

A medical officer carrying a bowl of medicine promptly stepped forward from behind her.

As the steaming bowl drew nearer and nearer, sweat beaded at Noble Lady Yu’s temples. Struggling desperately, she screamed with all her heart: “I am not ill! I am with child—carrying the dragon seed!”

A deathly silence fell. Every one of the dozen or so people present wished they could instantly go blind and deaf, lest they be silenced forever later.

Yet Noble Consort Hui’s expression remained perfectly calm—as if she had not heard at all. She simply repeated her earlier words: “Physician Liu, why aren’t you feeding her the medicine?”

“Yes—yes…” Physician Liu hurriedly replied.

Wei Yingluo stole a glance at him and noticed that the hand holding the medicine bowl was trembling. As he walked, drops of the dark brown liquid spilled along the path.

Her heart sank.

She had only ever heard tales of such things in operas—back-palace struggles for favor, forcing others to abort. Never had she imagined that one day she would witness such a scene unfold right before her eyes.

In the theater, the audience could curse and shout; the wealthier patrons could even toss silver to right the wrongs done to the characters onstage. If the storytellers received enough tips, they would twist their tongues and ensure the good were rewarded and the wicked punished.

But in reality, it was often the wicked who prospered.

Just like the Noble Consort Hui standing before them now.

So many mouths, so much slander and defamation, yet none of it could compare to even half of her true appearance in person.

Even if she was a peony, she was a peony steeped in poison.

“You’re not a child anymore—why are you making such a fuss just over taking medicine?” Noble Consort Hui still wore that lofty, arrogant demeanor. From such a vantage point, people looked no different from ants. “Someone, come help her.”

Noble Lady Yu kept refusing the medicine. To avoid the medicine bowl in front of her, she shook her head like a rattle-drum, causing the hairpins and ornaments on her head to fall off one after another. Her long black hair spilled over her shoulders, giving her the appearance of madness.

“Yes, Your Ladyship.” At her command, several palace maids stepped forward. Two of them pressed down on Noble Lady Yu’s shoulders, while another pinched her chin, forcing her mouth open. They then signaled the imperial physician with their eyes to administer the medicine.

Watching this scene unfold, Wei Yingluo, who was kneeling on the ground, clenched her fists tightly.

She looked left and right. Apart from Noble Consort Hui and her followers, the only other people present were a little palace maid who happened to be trimming flower branches nearby, and the three of them. Who would speak up and plead for Noble Consort Yu? Who dared to plead for Noble Consort Yu?

Wei Yingluo took a deep breath…

“Stop it!”

Chapter 15: the Slap

The voice that rang out did not belong to her, but to the woman who had hurried over.

Unlike Noble Consort Hui’s dazzling display of jewels and splendor, this woman was dressed entirely in plain, unadorned clothing. The only decoration was a small white magnolia flower tucked at her temple. At first glance, one might mistake her for a low-ranking candidate consort, but the retinue that followed her immediately revealed her true identity—she was the sole mistress of the rear palace, the Empress.

Empress Fucha had arrived in haste, not even having time to change into formal attire. She was still wearing the simple clothes she used when tending to flowers and plants; the hem of her skirt was stained with fallen petals and soil. She strode quickly to Noble Lady Yu, raised her hand to dismiss the palace maids, then personally helped Noble Lady Yu to her feet. Her cold gaze turned toward Noble Consort Hui.

“Noble Consort Hui, what exactly are you trying to do to Noble Lady Yu?”

Noble Consort Hui smiled coyishly.

“Noble Lady Yu is unwell. This consort specially invited an imperial physician to diagnose and treat her.”

“Oh?” Empress Fucha lowered her gaze to the medicine bowl in the imperial physician’s hands and asked sharply, “Is this really medicine for treating illness?”

“What else could it be?” Noble Consort Hui turned her eyes toward the physician. “Imperial Physician Liu, tell Her Majesty what kind of medicine this is.”

“Reporting to Your Majesty,” Imperial Physician Liu replied respectfully, “Noble Lady Yu’s pulse is thin and sunken in the left guan, slippery and forceful in the right guan. Combined with exuberant liver yang and accumulated phlegm-dampness in the lungs, she is suffering from a cough condition. To clear the lung heat for her, this minister specially prescribed a formula to clear heat and benefit the lungs… loquat paste.”

“Nonsense!” Noble Lady Yu cried out loudly. “I am clearly with child—how could it be a mere cough! This is obviously a bowl of poison! Empress, Empress, I beg you to save this concubine, wuwu…”

Empress Fucha’s expression darkened. Suspicious eyes turned toward Noble Consort Hui. “Is this truly loquat paste?”

“Zhilan,” Noble Consort Hui said with a faint smile.

“This servant is here.” The palace maid supporting her bowed her head in response.

Noble Consort Hui took the medicine bowl from Imperial Physician Liu and handed it directly to Zhilan, ordering, “Drink it.”

“Yes!” Zhilan accepted the bowl and drained it in one gulp.

Time passed second by second. Noble Lady Yu’s face grew paler and paler, Empress Fucha’s brows furrowed tighter and tighter, while across from them, Zhilan remained perfectly fine, standing there without the slightest change.

“Noble Lady Yu.” Noble Consort Hui looked at her, her smile growing even more radiant—like a peony that fed on malice. “Now let this consort ask you once more: is this poison?”

“This… this…” Noble Lady Yu gritted her teeth. “Abortion drugs only work on pregnant women. When taken by an ordinary person, naturally they have no effect.”

“Then let the people from the Imperial Medical Bureau come and examine it.” Noble Consort Hui said calmly and unhurriedly. “Zhilan, hand the medicine bowl to them. Let them take it to the Imperial Medical Bureau for a thorough investigation and see exactly what is in this bowl.”

Her fearless attitude actually made Empress Fucha hesitate for a moment. Could it really be loquat paste in that bowl? However, things had already reached this point—with so many eyes watching and so many ears listening, it could no longer be quietly brushed aside. Empress Fucha could only say:

“Someone, summon Court Physician Zhang from the Imperial Medical Bureau.”

Court Physician Zhang soon arrived. Under everyone’s watchful eyes, he carefully examined the remaining medicinal liquid in the bowl two or three times before finally concluding:

“Reporting to Your Ladyship, this medicine… is indeed loquat paste.”

Both Empress Fucha and Noble Lady Yu were stunned upon hearing this.

“Noble Lady Yu, for the sake of the dragon child you carry, this palace will temporarily not hold you accountable,” Noble Consort Hui said with a half-smile. “However, there is one person you must hand over to this palace… Empress, who was the one who secretly informed you that this palace was attempting to poison Noble Lady Yu?”

Empress Fucha’s expression darkened. From the corner of her eye, she glanced behind her—Concubine Yi.

“Concubine Yi is in for serious trouble now.”

After returning from Chuxiu Palace, Jinxiu told everyone she met about what had happened to her that day. The little palace maids, bored with their daily routine, now had fresh gossip to listen to and gathered eagerly around her, hanging on every word.

“Noble Lady Yu being pregnant with a dragon child should have been a joyous event, but she became paranoid, hid it, and didn’t report it. Noble Consort Hui kindly arranged for an imperial physician to examine her, yet she turned around and bit the hand that fed her!” After finishing the story, she shook her head and offered her own commentary: “And that Concubine Yi—she’s even more outrageous. She kept insisting that Noble Consort Hui was trying to poison the imperial heir! A mere low-ranking consort daring to slander a high-ranking consort—this is utter disrespect! Now she’s been taken away by Noble Consort Hui. I doubt she’ll die, but she’ll definitely lose a layer of skin!”

Was the situation really as Jinxiu described?

Probably not that simple.

Right now everyone was saying Noble Consort Hui had been wronged—but had she truly been wronged? Perhaps not. Noble Lady Yu carrying the dragon child should have been a blessing, yet now it had become a stain. Everyone suspected she was using the child in her belly to falsely accuse Noble Consort Hui. What’s more, Concubine Yi had been taken away as the informer. This invisibly undermined the Empress’s authority. In the future, who would dare report anything to the Empress? Who would still seek justice from her?

“As for Noble Lady Yu…” Wei Yingluo thought to herself, “it’s not that she won’t be dealt with—it’s just that it will happen a little later. After all, there are more ways to cause a miscarriage than just using medicine…”

Several days later, in the embroidery workshop, Momo Zhang once again sought out Wei Yingluo and Jinxiu.

“Chief Steward Wu has just given instructions,” Momo Zhang told the two of them. “Noble Lady Yu is with child, and the embroidery workshop must prepare new garments for her. You two are to come with me to Yonghe Palace.”

The sky was overcast that day, with thick dark clouds stretching endlessly, letting not a shred of light through. Yonghe Palace felt like an enormous coffin; its grand gate resembled an open coffin lid, waiting for a fresh corpse to enter.

Pa!

Before Wei Yingluo had even stepped through the door, a faint sound came from inside.

Pa!

Once she entered the courtyard, the sound grew closer and louder—pa, pa, pa.

Pa!

In the busy courtyard filled with people coming and going, Concubine Yi knelt on the ground. Both cheeks were swollen high, a thin line of blood trickled from the corner of her mouth, and her appearance was utterly miserable. The next moment, a wooden slat struck her face hard once again.

“Concubine Yi!” The slat was held in Zhilan’s hand. She sneered coldly: “This servant has been ordered by Her Highness Noble Consort to ask—why are we slapping your face?”

Concubine Yi gritted her teeth and answered: “This concubine falsely accused Noble Consort and committed insubordination.”

Pa!

The wooden slat struck Concubine Yi’s face once more. Zhilan said coldly:

“Her Highness Noble Consort asks you—do you harbor any resentment in your heart?”

“No resentment.” Concubine Yi swallowed the blood in her mouth. “This concubine brought this upon herself. No one else is to blame.”

The slat paused for a rare moment. Holding it, Zhilan smiled and asked her:

“Her Highness Noble Consort asks you once more—will you remember to watch your words from now on?”

Concubine Yi seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. “I remember…”

Slap!

A tooth flew from Concubine Yi’s direction, bouncing and rolling to a stop at Wei Yingluo’s feet—a snow-white tooth still stained with fresh blood.

“Louder!” Zhilan raised the wooden slat again.

Concubine Yi’s trembling hand covered her mouth; blood seeped out between her fingers. After shaking for a long moment, she finally lowered her hand and, with blood flowing from her mouth, stammered, “This concubine will firmly remember!”

“No!” Concubine Yi could still endure, but someone else could not. Noble Lady Yu suddenly rushed out from inside the room, threw herself over Concubine Yi, and cried toward Zhilan, “Don’t hit her anymore, please don’t hit her! Concubine Yi only made this mistake because of me. If Her Highness Noble Consort wants to punish someone, punish me instead! Hit me! Hit me!”

“Look at what you’re saying.” Zhilan sneered coldly. “Noble Lady Yu, you are carrying the dragon child; your status is honorable. For the sake of the child in your belly, Her Highness Noble Consort has already forgiven your earlier slanderous behavior. But Concubine Yi is different…”

She slowly shifted her gaze onto Concubine Yi’s face. Was it true that like attracts like? As the personal palace maid of Her Highness Noble Consort, Zhilan’s eyes carried the same cold, vicious malice—like a green snake flicking its tongue.

“There are still fifteen more strikes,” Zhilan said with a smile.

“No!” Noble Lady Yu clung desperately to Concubine Yi, as if she wanted to instantly turn into a chest, lock her inside, and lock everyone who intended to harm her outside.

“Noble Lady Yu, if you keep making such a fuss and end up harming the dragon child, we servants will not be able to bear the blame!” Zhilan turned to the surrounding palace maids. “Are you all made of wood? Hurry up and help Noble Lady back inside!”

The palace servants, intimidated by her authority, hurriedly stepped forward and, with many hands, pulled Noble Lady Yu away.

“No—let go of me! Let go! Concubine Yi!”

Slap!

Wei Yingluo and the other two also took the opportunity to leave together with the palace servants.

While waiting to be received by Noble Lady Yu, Jinxiu clutched her chest, terrified, and asked, “Momo, what just happened… that was…”

Momo Zhang replied, “Concubine Yi committed an offense against her superior and slandered Noble Consort. Her Highness Noble Consort ordered her to be publicly slapped.”

“But Concubine Yi is a proper palace master-rank consort!” Jinxiu stared at Momo Zhang in disbelief. “How could a mere palace maid…”

“Silence! What do you mean ‘a mere palace maid’?” Momo Zhang gave her a cold glance. “You are the one who is ‘a mere palace maid’! Who is she? She is Zhilan, the personal palace maid of Noble Consort Hui! Even the gatekeeper of a prime minister holds seventh-rank status—her position is higher than that of ordinary consorts!”

Jinxiu realized she had spoken wrongly again. Thinking quickly, she turned her gaze to Wei Yingluo and asked, “Yingluo, what are you looking at?”

All along the way Wei Yingluo had said nothing; she only kept turning her head back toward Concubine Yi, who was still kneeling in the distance.

“One should beat a person but not the face—even outside the palace it’s like that, let alone inside.” She murmured, “The way Her Highness Noble Consort is doing this is clearly meant to humiliate Concubine Yi, to make her lose all dignity. A woman who holds the rank of consort, yet ends up lower than the lowest palace maid… can she… can she really hold on?”

The figure reflected in her pupils suddenly swayed, then tilted to the right and collapsed weakly onto the ground.

“Pour water on her and wake her up!” Zhilan’s voice came drifting from far away—cold and utterly merciless. “There are still thirteen more strikes.”

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