Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 23: The East Window Has Been Blown Open

   “Yingluo, have you… gained weight?”

Not only did the consorts and concubines have new clothes measured and tailored—the palace maids did too. Especially the newly arrived young maids, who were still growing; after just a few months, their sleeves would already be too short.

Since they “eat off the mountain when on the mountain, drink off the water when by the water,” the embroidery workshop never shortchanged its own people. So when it came time to measure and make new clothes for the maids, the first priority was given to Wei Yingluo’s group of newcomers.

But the moment the soft measuring tape was wrapped around Wei Yingluo’s waist, Momo Zhang frowned. “Your waist has gotten at least an inch bigger. What have you been gorging yourself on lately?”

Wei Yingluo remained silent. Jixiang, standing beside her, immediately spoke up in her defense.

“No way!” Jixiang said. “Sister Yingluo has been throwing up everything she eats lately. She hasn’t had a proper meal in days!”

Momo Zhang shot her a fierce glare, annoyed at her loose tongue, then turned back to Wei Yingluo and sighed. “The clothes you’re wearing now are already too small. Before the new ones are ready, go to the storeroom and pick out an old one that fits for the time being.”

“Thank you, Momo,” Wei Yingluo said with a touch of shame. While the others continued with their measurements, she went alone into the storeroom.

Inside the storeroom were piles of new fabric and new garments, as well as old fabric and old clothes. The world is unpredictable—fortune and misfortune can change in an instant. Sometimes brand-new clothes are finished, yet the person who was meant to wear them is already gone. Sometimes, in just a few short months, the most fashionable patterns fall out of style, and so these garments and fabrics are tucked away on high shelves, untouched for years, their colors fading, mold slowly spreading, growing shabbier and older… until finally, no one will ever wear them again.

Just like the women of the rear palace who grow old.

Wei Yingluo walked slowly past rack after rack of hanging clothes. At last she selected a subdued stone-blue garment. After glancing around and confirming no one else was present, she removed the clothes she was wearing so she could try on the old stone-blue one in her hands.

Stripping off her outer garment revealed the close-fitting inner clothing beneath.

It could no longer conceal the slight swell of her abdomen.

And none of this escaped the watchful eyes of Jinxiu, who had followed closely behind.

When the news reached Aunt Fang’s ears, she slammed the table and stood up, laughing: “Excellent! This is truly a case of catching the adulterer red-handed with the evidence right there. I’m going to fetch Chief Steward Wu this instant!”

Jinxiu, standing to one side, eagerly added fuel to the fire: “While you’re at it, call Momo Zhang over too—let her see with her own eyes what kind of ‘outstanding disciple’ her prized protégé really is!”

“Exactly right! And drag that old hag along as well—let’s see if she’ll still dare to show off in front of me after this!”

Aunt Fang scoffed with icy disdain, then hurried off impatiently to find Chief Steward Wu.

This was no trivial matter. Wu Shulai immediately set aside whatever he was doing and rushed to the palace maids’ quarters.

“Wei Yingluo!” He fixed his gaze on the young girl before him. “Someone has accused you of shameful conduct. Do you plead guilty?”

Wei Yingluo was wearing a freshly changed stone-blue gown that made her demeanor appear even more composed and steady. She first respectfully curtsied to Wu Shulai, then calmly replied:

“May I ask, Eunuch, what exactly is this ‘shameful conduct’ being alleged, and who is the accuser?”

“It’s me!” Aunt Fang stepped forward from the crowd, her eyes like knives slicing into her. “I accuse you of carrying on an illicit affair with a guard and secretly conceiving a child!”

Wei Yingluo let out a soft sigh. “Auntie, I have never offended you. Why would you use such baseless slander to harm me?”

“Whether it’s baseless or not will become clear with an examination!” Aunt Fang turned to Wu Shulai. “Chief Steward Wu, please summon an experienced mama to examine her—then the truth will be plain for all to see!”

Seeing her so confident and fearless, Wu Shulai couldn’t help but frown.

From what he knew of Aunt Fang, she would never dare make such a public accusation without some solid basis. Could it really be true, as she claimed, that Wei Yingluo had…?

Wu Shulai did not want the matter to escalate further. If Wei Yingluo lost face, his own reputation as the chief eunuch in charge of the palace maids would suffer as well. So he spoke with a hint of persuasion:

“Wei Yingluo, if you truly did this, it would be better to confess honestly now. Otherwise, if it’s discovered during the examination, the humiliation will be even greater.”

“Defiling the palace carries the penalty of death by random beating. I; Yingluo values my life—how could I possibly have the nerve to do such a thing?” Wei Yingluo cast a faint glance at Aunt Fang. “Just as Aunt Fang suggests—summon an experienced mama and let the truth come to light.”

Wu Shulai was now thoroughly confused by the two of them. Aunt Fang acted as though she held irrefutable proof and intended to destroy her opponent completely, yet unexpectedly Wei Yingluo appeared just as upright and unafraid of scrutiny. This…

“Very well,” Wu Shulai finally said. “Someone, go and summon Momo Yan!”

Momo Yan was a midwife.

According to her own account, she had served across two reigns of emperors and had personally delivered three princesses and four princes. No one knew whether she was telling the truth or simply boasting.

To secure her services, Wu Shulai had to use both his personal influence and a certain amount of silver.

Otherwise, this formidable figure would not have been moved.

But to Wu Shulai, the expense was worthwhile. The matter had already grown quite public, so only a midwife whose status and skill were universally respected could produce a result that everyone would accept.

Of course, if she could be persuaded—thanks to the silver—to quietly resolve the issue and make it disappear, that would be ideal…

Aunt Fang saw through his thoughts and sneered: “Momo Yan, with so many eyes watching and so many mouths ready to talk, you had better examine her very carefully. Otherwise, if in a few months this little wretch gives birth to a full-term child, your golden reputation will be ruined.”

“Chief Steward Wu,” Wei Yingluo shot her a sideways glance, then turned back to Wu Shulai. “Though I am only a palace maid, I am still the daughter of a respectable family. To have my spotless reputation slandered like this—any other person might dash their head against the wall in despair! The one making this accusation clearly intends to drive me to my death. May I ask: if in the end I am proven innocent, how will the accuser be dealt with?”

“The palace has its rules. Those who defile the court are beaten to death at random. Those who make empty accusations and falsely incriminate others are beaten with random blows and expelled from the Forbidden City! Enough—everything now depends on the result of this examination!” Wu Shulai waved his hand. “Momo Yan, begin!”

“Miss, come with me.” Momo Yan led Wei Yingluo into a small room that had been prepared in advance.

The doors and windows were tightly sealed, and not a single sound leaked out. Those waiting outside had no idea what was happening inside; to them, the time dragged on like years. Jixiang paced back and forth on the spot. Momo Zhang’s gaze once again turned toward the door. Aunt Fang’s right foot tapped the ground impatiently.

At last, with a creak, the door opened again.

Momo Yan stepped over the threshold, wiping her hands with a damp cloth.

“How is it?” Aunt Fang rushed forward in a single stride. “What’s the result? Is her belly really big?”

Momo Yan paused for a moment. “It is… bigger…”

“Did you hear that? Did all of you hear that!” Aunt Fang was overjoyed. She spun around and shouted to Wu Shulai, to Momo Zhang, and to everyone standing in the inner courtyard: “Wei Yingluo is pregnant!”

Her words were like throwing a live chicken into a pot of boiling water.

Instantly the water splashed everywhere, feathers flew in all directions.

“My God, she really did something shameful!”

“I always said she was sneaky all the time—turns out she was sneaking off to meet someone!”

“Tch, so what if her embroidery is good? Her character is rotten—she’s completely disgraced us all!”

“No, no—Sister Yingluo would never do something like that!”

Momo Zhang swayed on her feet. If Jixiang hadn’t quickly supported her, she might have collapsed to the ground right there. Not far away, Wu Shulai’s expression was also very dark. The look he directed toward Wei Yingluo was filled with disappointment.

He had once held such high hopes for this child… sigh…

He was just about to raise his hand and bring the matter to a close when Momo Yan suddenly roared: “Enough! Can’t you all let me finish speaking?!”

The chaotic clamor abruptly stopped. Aunt Fang froze for a second, then said, “Didn’t you just say her belly is big…”

“I said her belly is bigger… than usual!” Momo Yan finally got the chance to finish the sentence she had left hanging. Then she scoffed with a sneer. “It’s most likely she ate something hard to digest and bloated her stomach. But the most important thing is—she is still a virgin. Her chastity is intact!”

“What!” Aunt Fang could hardly believe her ears. She grabbed Momo Yan’s arm. “What did you say? Did you… did you make a mistake?”

“Pah!” While others might give her face, Momo Yan had no intention of sparing hers. She immediately spat in Aunt Fang’s direction and, relying on her seniority, snapped: “Shut your mouth! A little girl like you dares to act experienced in front of me? How many women have you actually seen that you would dare declare someone is pregnant? I’ve been in the palace for forty years—I’ve examined countless candidate consorts and palace maids. Do you think I can’t even tell the difference between a married woman and a maiden?!”

Aunt Fang’s face was sprayed with spittle, yet she didn’t even have the presence of mind to wipe it off.

The stares all around made her feel ice-cold all over. Almost pleading, she clung to Momo Yan: “You’ve never made a mistake before. Maybe… maybe just this once you did? Please—I beg you, Momo Yan—check her again. Just once!”

“No need!” Wu Shulai stepped forward and said in a deep voice, “Momo Yan is an old momo with forty years in the palace. When it comes to women’s matters, even the head of the Imperial Medical Academy can’t compare to her experience! Dozens of eyes saw it clearly—Wei Yingluo has indeed been wrongly accused. You, as the managing auntie, have truly acted disgracefully!”

Aunt Fang could no longer hold herself up. Her knees buckled and she dropped to the ground, sobbing bitterly: “Chief Steward Wu, Chief Steward Wu, I—I was only misled by that girl Jinxiu’s nonsense! She wanted to frame Wei Yingluo—it wasn’t me!”

Suddenly dragged out to take the blame, Jinxiu jumped in fright. Seeing everyone turn their gazes toward her, she kept retreating, but she had nowhere to go. She could only wave her hands frantically: “No—no, it wasn’t me! Aunt Fang, how can you blame me? It was clearly you who told me to keep an eye on Yingluo. I only reported what I saw—I didn’t exaggerate a single word!”

“Hmph! It was obviously you who had a grudge against Wei Yingluo. You deliberately fed me false information to scare me, using me as your weapon. I… I…” The more Aunt Fang spoke, the angrier she became. Suddenly she lunged at the other woman, grabbing her by the hair and clawing at her face, roaring: “I’ll fight you to the death!”

The two of them grappled together like lifelong enemies. Even three or four people couldn’t pull them apart. For a moment, dust flew up and hairpins and jewelry scattered across the ground.

“Enough!” Wu Shulai roared, “What a disgrace, what an utter disgrace! Someone, come! Pull these two apart!”

In the end, it was the eunuchs he had brought with him who stepped in, forcibly separating the two women. Even then, they refused to settle down, continuously kicking their legs at each other while crying out and begging for mercy toward Wu Shulai.

Wu Shulai’s head throbbed from their noise. His gaze turned to Wei Yingluo as he slowly said, “Wei Yingluo, you are the victim here. What do you say?”

From the tone of Wu Shulai’s words, it seemed he was handing the decision over to Wei Yingluo?

Aunt Fang and Jinxiu exchanged a glance, then immediately switched targets, pleading desperately toward Wei Yingluo in turn.

Aunt Fang: “Yingluo! Yingluo! I was wrong, I was truly wrong! It was my fault, I was too harsh and unfair. Everything is my mistake—please forgive me! From now on, I won’t pick on you anymore. This is all Jinxiu’s doing—she’s the one who sowed discord! You’re a good girl; it’s all her fault!”

Jinxiu: “Yingluo, don’t believe her! She’s just trying to beg for your forgiveness! You and I entered the palace together—you know how timid I am. How could I have planned something this big all by myself? It was her—she’s the real mastermind behind it. I only went along with it because I had no choice!”

Wei Yingluo ignored the two of them completely. She curtsied once more to Wu Shulai, her tone calm and steady: “People’s words can be fearsome. If not for Your Excellency Chief Steward Wu upholding justice, Yingluo would likely have had no choice but to die to prove her innocence. Now that the truth has come to light, I ask that Chief Steward Wu handle this impartially.”

“Oh?” Wu Shulai chuckled. “Even if I were to let them both go, you wouldn’t hold any resentment in your heart?”

Aunt Fang and Jinxiu’s eyes instantly lit up with fervent hope. They looked at Wei Yingluo with anxiety and pleading, only to see her gently shake her head and reply, “No resentment.”

Wu Shulai smiled with satisfaction. “Though you bear no grudge… I cannot simply let them off like that! Momo Fang!”

“Here, here—your humble servant is here.” Aunt Fang, whose full name had been called, hurriedly knelt down.

“You slandered others and committed the sin of malicious speech. Forty strokes of the cane, then expulsion from the palace!” Chief Steward Wu said coldly. Then his gaze shifted abruptly from her collapsed, paralyzed form to the trembling Jinxiu. “Palace maid Jinxiu, jealous of your fellow maids and sowing discord—twenty strokes of the cane, and sentenced to hard labor in the Laundry Department.”

The two immediately burst into loud sobs and screams.

Aunt Fang: “No! Chief Steward Wu, I know I was wrong! I truly know I was wrong! Chief Steward Wu! Chief Steward Wu!”

Jinxiu: “It’s not my fault! It was all Aunt Fang—she’s the one who harmed me. This really has nothing to do with me!”

Wu Shulai truly could not bear to hear their voices any longer. With a wave of his hand, several eunuchs stepped forward together and dragged the two women away with force.

“What kind of place is this palace that you dare to spout nonsense and stir up trouble? Anyone who dares to cause more chaos or make trouble out of nothing—those two will be your example!” Wu Shulai swept his gaze around. Wherever his eyes fell, everyone lowered their heads—until they reached Wei Yingluo, when his expression softened somewhat. “If you want to learn from someone, learn more from Wei Yingluo. She is the true role model worthy of your emulation.”

Perhaps he had only said it casually, but so what?

   Once he left, everyone raised their heads again, and the way they looked at Wei Yingluo had completely changed.

   Aunt Fang was gone from the palace maids’ quarters.

   And now, with Chief Steward Wu’s words added on top…

   …From this day forward, in the palace maids’ quarters, who would dare to oppose Wei Yingluo again?

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   Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 22: Rumors

   The rumors were not only spreading among the palace maids—they were also circulating among the guards.

They had even reached the ears of Fucha Fuheng.

“Qingxi and a palace maid?” Fucha Fuheng frowned, sensing that something was off about the matter.

He knew Qingxi’s character well: cautious and prudent, never doing anything out of line. When the guards were off duty, it was common for them to indulge in wine, women, and song. Sometimes even Fucha Fuheng couldn’t refuse and had to accompany his subordinates to drink flower wine—but in all those times, he had never once seen Qingxi among them.

For a man like that to be rumored to have seduced a palace maid? Fucha Fuheng couldn’t help shaking his head. “Who has Qingxi offended, that someone would spread such a rumor to harm him?”

The guard who had come to report the gossip hurriedly said, “No one’s framing him—I saw it with my own eyes.”

Fucha Fuheng frowned. “What exactly did you see?”

“A few days ago, while we were patrolling the Imperial Garden, a very proper-looking little palace maid passed by and quietly slipped something to Qingxi.” The guard chuckled with a slyness to the face. “I wasn’t the only one who saw it—several others did too.”

Since there were eyewitnesses, it probably wasn’t something fabricated out of thin air.

But one-sided accounts can mislead. Fucha Fuheng had no intention of believing only one version of events. He questioned the man carefully—especially about the little palace maid’s appearance and attire—then finally stood up. “All right. I’ll go ask Qingxi myself.”

When he arrived at the guards’ quarters, it happened to be Qingxi’s rest time. Several colleagues were teasing him nearby, and the topic was precisely the palace maid affair. Fucha Fuheng’s heart stirred. He withdrew the foot he had just stepped forward with, concealed himself behind the door, and quietly listened.

“Hey, Qingxi—you’ve got game! Snagging such a pretty little palace maid without making a sound!” One guard slung an arm around Qingxi’s shoulders, winking exaggeratedly.

“You had your head down the whole time—how do you even know she’s pretty?” another disagreed. “Maybe when she looks up, her beard’s thicker than yours.”

“Get lost—don’t be sour grapes just because you can’t have her,” the first guard shot back. “Any girl selected to enter the palace—how many of them aren’t good-looking? The ugly ones don’t even make it through the Forbidden City gates! Besides, a girl in the bloom of sixteen or seventeen—just tidy her up a little, and how could she not be beautiful? Right, Qingxi?”

Qingxi was squeezed in the middle by them, his face full of embarrassment. He could only reply stiffly, “The ancestors’ rules do not permit us to have improper relations with palace maids. As for me and her…”

“Hey, I thought you were going to say something serious!” One of the guards burst into loud laughter and clapped him on the shoulder. “This kind of thing—as long as no one reports it, the officials won’t investigate. Palace maids will be released sooner or later anyway. If you like her, just take her as a concubine later! That’s taking a ‘nafu qi hei’ (Manchu: concubine), not marrying a ‘sarigan’ (Manchu: wife). What’s there to be afraid of!”

Fucha Fuheng could listen no longer. He stepped out from behind the door, his voice cold and stern: “Qingxi!”

The teasing laughter in the room instantly died. Everyone, including Qingxi, hurriedly stood up. “Lord Fucha…”

Fucha Fuheng walked up to Qingxi and looked at this man—who had always been known for his upright and clean conduct—with a pained and disappointed expression. Slowly he said, “Palace maids and guards are forbidden from private exchanges. This is palace regulation. You should have known it from the very first day you entered the palace!”

Qingxi bowed his head under the rebuke.

Fucha Fuheng took a deep breath and extended his hand. “Hand it over.”

When Qingxi remained motionless for a long moment, he repeated more forcefully, “Hand over whatever that palace maid gave you!”

Qingxi looked at him with a complicated expression for a while, then let out a faint sigh. He reached into his robes, took out an object, and placed it in the open palm extended toward him.

Everyone had assumed it would be an embroidered handkerchief with a lady’s name, or perhaps a sword tassel stained with lipstick, or even a precious lock of hair cut from her temple—symbolizing “binding our hair together as husband and wife, never to part until our heads turn white.”

But when eyes turned to look, what they saw was… a stone.

A perfectly ordinary, grayish-white stone, the kind one could pick up anywhere in the Imperial Garden, with nothing special about it at all.

One of the guards who knew Qingxi well wanted to help him out. Seeing this, he laughed and said, “Giving a stone means ‘my heart is as firm as stone’—oh dear, so you’ve been rejected? Hahaha!”

It had to be said that Qingxi was well-liked. As soon as he laughed, the others joined in. Laughter filled the guard station; everyone seemed eager to treat the whole thing as a joke and let it pass.

“Silence!” Fucha Fuheng said coldly.

The laughter stopped at once. Everyone cautiously studied Fucha Fuheng’s expression. This made him feel almost amused inside—did they really think he was the kind of person who would indiscriminately start beating people with a board the moment he walked in?

…Yes. He was exactly that kind of person.

“Everyone will recite the Guard Regulations one hundred times!” Fucha Fuheng ordered, hands clasped behind his back. “Anyone who cannot recite them perfectly will not eat dinner!”

“Ah? Lord Fucha!”

“No, please…”

“Mercy!”

Wails of misery filled the guard station, but Fucha Fuheng remained unmoved.

This was all for their own good. If he let the matter slide lightly, they would develop a false sense of security and might one day actually commit some real disgraceful act.

A hundred recitations were a moderate punishment—and a reminder to everyone.

After leaving the guard station, Fucha Fuheng couldn’t help but open his palm again on the way back. He gazed at the small stone in his hand and murmured, “And that palace maid… who exactly is she? And what does this thing mean? Could it really be ‘my heart is as firm as stone’?”

The commotion in the guard station wasn’t huge, but it wasn’t small either. When no one was deliberately trying to conceal it, it naturally couldn’t escape the eyes of those who were paying attention.

“Auntie! Auntie!” Jinxiu knocked on Aunt Fang’s door, her face full of excitement. “I found out who that guard is!”

“Oh?” Aunt Fang sat up on the bed. “Who?”

“His name is Qijia—Qingxi. I heard the two of them not only exchanged private gifts, but also swapped love tokens…” Jinxiu embellished and dramatized the events in the guard station, then added, “I also found out that he’s on duty every five days, guarding the Qianqing Gate. Today must be the day they secretly arranged to meet!”

“The people in the Imperial Guard quarters already know about those two. It’s basically a done deal now,” Aunt Fang said with a cold laugh. “You keep a close eye on her for me. I reckon it won’t be many more days before those two are going to cause a major incident!”

Jinxiu didn’t need Aunt Fang to tell her—she was already watching Wei Yingluo like a hawk.

Yet no matter how closely she watched, she never once caught Wei Yingluo in the act of meeting a man privately. Several times Aunt Fang pressed her for a report, and all she could offer were faint traces and suspicious clues.

But weren’t those faint traces enough to prove something?

“Ugh!” In the palace maids’ dining hall, the food had just been served when Wei Yingluo suddenly covered her mouth and rushed toward the doorway, retching violently.

Jixiang quickly brought the dish of vegetables up to her nose, sniffing at it like a small animal for a long while before asking in confusion, “It doesn’t smell spoiled… Sister Yingluo, do you just not like fish?”

Today’s meal was excellent—there was both fish and meat. Especially the bowl of fish soup each person received: the broth was milky white, the fish flesh had almost melted into it, the bones softened by long simmering so they could be swallowed whole. It was incredibly fresh and fragrant, lingering on the lips and teeth.

Palace maids rarely got to eat meat, but fish was even rarer—not because fish was more expensive, but because eating too much could leave a fishy taste in the mouth, which might displease their masters.

Everyone treasured this rare chance—everyone except Wei Yingluo.

“…Mm, I don’t really like fish,” Wei Yingluo replied, turning back with a strained smile at Jixiang. “You can have mine.”

Jixiang was delighted. “Sure, sure! Then I’ll give you my green beans.”

Just as they were exchanging plates, a voice suddenly cut in from the side: “Is your stomach upset? My sister-in-law was like that when she was pregnant—everything she ate made her want to throw up.”

Wei Yingluo’s face froze. She turned toward the speaker and said, “Last time Noble Consort Hui bestowed quite a few lotus-root-flour dumplings. I ate too many by accident and my stomach hasn’t been right since. It’s nothing serious.”

Jinxiu smiled but said nothing. Inside, however, she scoffed—

Lotus-root-flour dumplings? That was three months ago, old news. Even if they were hard to digest, they couldn’t possibly still be causing trouble now!

Could it really be…?

Jinxiu’s gaze drifted casually across Wei Yingluo’s abdomen.

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   Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 21: Lotus-Root-Flour Dumplings

   Whether someone is pretending to be stupid cannot be seen in front of others—only when no one is watching can the truth be revealed.

Zhilan left Chuxiu Palace carrying a six-sided palace lantern.

She deliberately kept the wick turned very low, so that it only illuminated a few inches ahead of her feet. This way she wouldn’t startle anyone.

Taking a familiar shortcut, Zhilan managed to leave Chuxiu Palace ahead of Wei Yingluo and then hid herself on the path the girl must take back to the embroidery workshop.

The moment she heard footsteps approaching, she blew out the lantern.

Darkness immediately enveloped her. Zhilan pressed herself behind a large tree. The tree’s shadow fell over her like a shroud of black clouds and mist, wrapping her tightly in darkness so that no eye could discern her.

Soon the footsteps drew nearer, accompanied by a series of little burps.

“Oh no!” The footsteps suddenly stopped.

Zhilan held her breath at once, straining to hear what she would say.

“If I just take these dumplings back like this, what if everyone asks me to share them?” Wei Yingluo muttered in distress. “They’re so delicious—I really don’t want to share them with anyone. Maybe… maybe I should just eat them all right now!”

Under Zhilan’s stunned gaze, she lifted the bowl and began gulping them down. Halfway through, she suddenly went “waaah” and vomited everything—along with what she had already eaten back in Chuxiu Palace—onto the ground.

As she retched, she suddenly squatted down and began to cry. Zhilan thought at first that she was crying over some grievance, but then she heard her sigh mournfully: “How did it all come back up… ah, what a waste, what a waste…”

This person—this person really is an idiot!!

Zhilan couldn’t bear to watch any longer. Afraid that continuing would only dirty her eyes and ears further, she spat softly in disgust and turned to leave to report back.

Behind her, the sound of vomiting continued in fits and starts.

Wei Yingluo forcefully dug at her own throat. She knew that the louder and more violent her retching sounded, the faster Zhilan would hurry away.

“Cough, cough cough…” After finally emptying her stomach, Wei Yingluo slowly raised her head. The violent vomiting had caused glistening tears to well up at the corners of her eyes, yet two flames still burned fiercely within them.

Play dumb.

Noble Consort Hui’s sudden attack had come too abruptly. In her panic, this was the only tactic she could think of to cope.

Anyone can pretend to be stupid, but precisely because it’s something anyone can do, it becomes all the more difficult. The hardest part was how to quickly extinguish Noble Consort Hui’s killing intent.

One must remember that this mistress had the heart of a snake and scorpion—she could casually strike even at the consorts and concubines of the rear palace, to say nothing of a lowly little palace maid like her.

That was why she had eaten those seven bowls of lotus-root-flour dumplings just right—enough to look convincing, but not enough to truly harm herself.

Presumably, that self-proclaimed clever woman Noble Consort Hui would, for a considerable length of time to come, no longer waste her attention on a “fool” like her.

“Noble Consort Hui would not target me without reason.” Wei Yingluo wiped the residue from the corner of her mouth and sneered coldly. “So who was the one who informed her?”

That person was surely hiding not far from her side.

Her first suspicion fell on Jinxiu—after all, she was in the know, and it had been she who led Zhilan to the embroidery workshop to find her. But for the moment she had no proof. And besides Jinxiu, there were three others who had never gotten along with her and never stopped badmouthing her behind her back—for example, right now.

Three days had passed since her return from Noble Consort Hui’s palace. On this day, the palace maids from the embroidery workshop and the gold-and-jade workshop were suddenly summoned to one place. They were told that a senior eunuch would soon arrive to give them instructions.

When many people gather, mouths multiply.

The three of them huddled together, whispering in voices neither too loud nor too soft—just loud enough for those nearby to hear clearly. One of them said:

“Wei Yingluo came back very late last night, you know—”

“Wasn’t she summoned to Chuxiu Palace by Sister Zhilan?”

“After Sister Zhilan finished giving her instructions, do you think she’d keep her for dinner? You’re so naive. After she left Chuxiu Palace, she went straight to a secret rendezvous! Her sweetheart is one of the guards in the Forbidden City!”

They spoke with such vivid detail, as if they had witnessed it with their own eyes. Half the people believed it outright; the other half didn’t quite believe it, yet still listened with relish. After all, the love of gossip is universal—even if one doesn’t believe the story, it can still be entertaining.

Everyone turned to look. Wei Yingluo couldn’t help clenching her fists tightly.

“Eunuch Li has arrived!”

The sharp announcement from a young eunuch temporarily silenced the chatter.

Wei Yingluo only glanced up once before quickly lowering her head again.

Truly, good news never travels, while bad news arrives in droves. She recognized the Eunuch Li approaching from the opposite side—he was none other than the senior eunuch who had been attending the Emperor the last time.

Fortunately, Eunuch Li did not recognize her. The weather was rather hot today; there was no need even to speak—merely standing in the sun for a little while was enough to soak one’s back in sweat. Several attentive young eunuchs hurriedly carried over a chair into the shade, presented tea and a fruit platter. Eunuch Li took two sips of water, then instructed:

“Who has come?”

“The newly arrived palace maids from the embroidery workshop and the gold-and-jade workshop,” a young eunuch replied while fanning him.

Eunuch Li nodded. “Same as the past few days—begin.”

He folded his hands in front of his abdomen, leaned back in the chair, and closed his eyes as if dozing. Yet he was not truly asleep; instead, he kept both ears pricked high.

“Come, line up one by one and speak,” the young eunuch ordered. “Just say: This humble servant is tickling the sacred tree!”

What kind of words were these?

The palace maids looked at one another, completely baffled by the meaning.

“Hurry up—don’t waste Eunuch Li’s time!” the young eunuch urged impatiently.

At last, one palace maid stepped forward with gritted teeth:

“This humble servant is tickling the sacred tree…”

Before she could finish speaking, Eunuch Li, reclining in his chair, slowly shook his head. The young eunuch attendant had been watching his every move from the corner of his eye and immediately called out:

“Next.”

“This humble servant is tickling the sacred tree’s itch.”

“Next.”

“This humble servant is tickling the sacred tree’s itch.”

“Next.”

“This humble servant is tickling the sacred tree’s itch.”

“Next.”

The line in front of her grew shorter and shorter, while the sweat on Wei Yingluo’s face grew more and more abundant.

“Sister Yingluo, are you very hot?” Jixiang handed her a handkerchief, asking worriedly, “Here, use this to wipe your sweat.”

Wei Yingluo accepted the handkerchief without a word, raised her hand to dab at the perspiration, then suddenly swayed and collapsed to the ground.

Jixiang was startled and hurriedly threw herself over her. “Sister Yingluo! Sister Yingluo, what’s wrong?”

The commotion was loud enough that Eunuch Li slowly opened his eyes.

“What’s happening?”

The young eunuch went over to check, then returned and reported:

“Eunuch, it’s a little palace maid who fainted from the heat.”

Eunuch Li glanced up at the sky. Even though layers of dense tree canopy shaded them overhead, a few threads of sunlight still slipped through the gaps between leaves and struck the skin like scalding water.

“This weather really is hard to endure.” Eunuch Li raised a hand to wipe the sweat from his forehead and gave the order: “Take the one who fainted back first. Everyone else, move into the shade and continue.”

“This humble servant will scratch the sacred tree’s itch.”

“Next.”

“This humble servant will scratch the sacred tree’s itch.”

“Next.”

“This humble servant will scratch the sacred tree’s itch.”

“Next.”

The voices of the exchanges gradually faded into the distance.

Wei Yingluo, half-carried and half-supported by Jixiang as they walked back, opened her eyes for a moment—then quickly closed them again, letting out a quiet sigh of relief in her heart.

She still didn’t know why Eunuch Li was looking for her, but fortunately she hadn’t shown her face that day. She had been wearing ordinary palace maid attire; neither the collar nor the cuffs bore any special embroidery—such privileges belonged only to senior palace maids and the older aunties and mammies.

Eunuch Li could only search among the low-ranking maids, and he could only identify her by voice.

The leather workshop, the embroidery workshop, the gold-and-jade workshop, the Ruyi Pavilion… he still had thousands of voices left to listen to. Most likely, after hearing so many, he would gradually forget what her voice sounded like.

“This matter isn’t urgent for the time being,” Wei Yingluo thought to herself. “The priority right now is to deal with the gossip and rumors swirling around me. Hah—though they say rumors stop with the wise, in this world the fools far outnumber the wise. There are hardly any truly clever people…”

Even Momo Zhang was thinking the very same thing.

After the embroidery workshop’s tasks were finished, she kept Wei Yingluo behind alone. She closed the doors and windows, shutting out any curious ears, then asked gravely:

“Everyone is saying that you are involved with a certain guard. Is there any truth to it?”

Wei Yingluo smiled. “Momo, the rumors have even reached you?”

“They are everywhere in the embroidery workshop,” Momo Zhang said earnestly. “I don’t believe them myself, but when three people repeat a story, it becomes a tiger. Rumors can do great harm. You must be especially careful.”

The two of them looked at each other in silence. After a moment, Wei Yingluo finally asked softly, “What’s the worst-case scenario?”

“The worst case,” Momo Zhang replied, “is if the rumor reaches Chief Steward Wu’s ears.”

Although she had met him before and even earned his favor, knowing a person’s face does not mean knowing their heart. Wei Yingluo freely admitted that her understanding of Chief Steward Wu was far less than that of the mammy before her, who had crawled and rolled through the harem for more than a decade. So she asked earnestly, “Momo, in your opinion—if the rumor really does reach Chief Steward Wu’s ears in the worst-case scenario—would he punish me without distinguishing right from wrong?”

“That he would not do.” Momo Zhang thought for a moment, then shook her head. “Chief Steward Wu is a man who gets things done properly. If something falls into his hands, he will almost certainly investigate it thoroughly—unlike some of the other eunuchs, who would casually dispose of people just to quiet things down quickly.”

“I understand…” Wei Yingluo said thoughtfully.

She believed in settling grudges without letting them fester overnight. If there was an enemy, deal with them early—never leave them lurking in the shadows, where they could strike at any moment. As she left the embroidery workshop, a plan was gradually taking shape in Wei Yingluo’s mind. She was only missing one thing… a prop.

Her footsteps suddenly halted. She turned her gaze toward the corridor opposite.

Several craftsmen were pushing a cart past.

One of the younger craftsmen sensed something and turned his head—only to meet Wei Yingluo’s gentle smile. His entire face instantly flushed crimson. He froze in place, stammering speechlessly, as if an immortal maiden had pointed at him and turned him to stone. It wasn’t until one of his companions smacked him on the back of the head and scolded him—” What are you staring at? You want to lose your eyes? That’s a palace woman. She looks that beautiful—who knows if she’s actually one of the ladies…”—that he snapped out of it.

The group hurriedly lowered their heads and pushed the cart away in a fluster.

Because of their hasty movements, a scattering of white powdery soil spilled onto the ground where the wheels had passed.

A pair of white embroidered shoes slowly approached. Then a slender, beautiful hand reached down and scooped up a handful of the scattered dust.

Looking down at the white powder in her palm, a breathtakingly beautiful smile slowly bloomed across Wei Yingluo’s face.

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   Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 20: The Informant

   “Sister Zhilan.”

Zhilan turned and saw a woman approaching with a flirtatious, swaying gait. Such an appearance and figure might easily win favor in a brothel or the inner quarters of a wealthy merchant’s household, but on a servant in the palace it looked far from proper—likely to draw annoyance if one wasn’t careful.

“You are?” Zhilan gave her a cool, sweeping glance.

“I’m a palace maid from the embroidery workshop—Jinxiu.” Jinxiu hurriedly introduced herself, lifting both hands to present a tray on which lay a neatly folded green garment. “Momo Zhang sent me to deliver the newly finished spring clothing.”

“Oh.” Zhilan nodded. “Just set it down.”

But Jinxiu was unwilling to leave so easily. She placed the tray down with deliberate slowness, all the while speaking in a fawning tone: “It’s the same palace uniform for everyone, yet when it’s worn by you, sister, it looks completely different. Look how beautifully the flowers are embroidered at the cuffs—one glance and anyone can tell you’re someone with skillful hands.”

Zhilan smiled faintly. Although everyone wore the same style of palace attire, a closer look revealed subtle differences. The more capable and higher-ranking senior maids would have additional embroidery added to their cuffs and collars, with varying degrees of finesse. The one she wore now was adorned with peach blossoms in bud—not stitched by her own hand, but ordered from one of the little maids in the embroidery workshop.

What was her name again? It seemed to be… Yingluo?

“…even more skillful than Yingluo, the best embroiderer we have over there.” Jinxiu continued with a smile. “Speaking of Yingluo, not only does she have embroidery skills that rival heaven itself, she’s also extremely clever. If it hadn’t been for her last time, none of us would have known there were so many details to loquat paste!”

Zhilan had already grown tired of her and was about to wave her away when she suddenly turned her head sharply. “What did you say? Loquat paste?”

“Yes.” Jinxiu put on an innocent expression. “Last time in Yonghe Palace, Yingluo mentioned that when she was little she once accidentally ate loquat leaves, and that’s how we learned the new leaves are poisonous and can’t be used in medicine. Why, is something wrong?”

Zhilan slammed her right hand down hard on the table, gritting her teeth. “So that’s how it is—it was her!”

“Sister Zhilan, did… did I say something wrong?” Jinxiu pretended to lower her head timidly, her voice quavering, while inwardly she sneered again and again.

That little wretch Wei Yingluo—on the surface she acted so pure and lofty, forbidding her from seducing Fucha Fuheng, yet behind her back she was hooking up with a guard herself.

Unfortunately she had notified Aunt Fang too late and failed to catch the adulterer in the act. But no matter—she still held other leverage in her hand. By borrowing Noble Consort Hui’s power, she could surely remove this eyesore from her path.

“Lead the way.” Zhilan stood up. “Take me to find this Wei Yingluo.”

“Yes, Sister Zhilan.” Jinxiu replied promptly.

The two walked one behind the other toward the embroidery workshop. When they arrived, a crowd was already gathered around Wei Yingluo—some staring in admiration, others with entranced expressions.

“This rosy-cloud embroidery is so beautiful. I’m going to embroider one myself later.”

“Hah, don’t end up trying to draw a tiger and winding up with something that looks like a dog instead.”

“I used to embroider rosy clouds too, but the ones I made always came out looking like patches of floating mist. Yingluo, how exactly do you do it?”

“This is the full-embroidery technique. The colors graduate smoothly, the layers are distinct—beautiful to look at, yes, but it takes ten years of practice under the stage lights to achieve. If you want to produce something of the same quality, without a decade of work, it’s impossible.”

A pair of embroidered shoes stepped up behind Wei Yingluo, followed by a burst of laughter. “Indeed, very well done.”

Wei Yingluo paused her needle, turned to look at the newcomer, then hurriedly rose and curtsied. “Sister Zhilan.”

The other palace maids also rushed to bow to this favored attendant of Noble Consort Hui. Even Momo Zhang—the eldest present—stood up, not daring to remain seated in Zhilan’s presence. Her tone was extremely polite as she asked:

“Zhilan, what brings you here? Is it that the spring garments we sent over were not to your liking? There was no need for you to come in person—just send a palace maid with a message, and I would have gone straight to Chuxiu Palace at once.”

“I was originally quite satisfied,” Zhilan replied with a smile, “but after seeing this cloud-and-rosy-sky design, I’m no longer pleased.” Her gaze shifted to Wei Yingluo. “This little palace maid’s embroidery is exceptionally fine. Let her come with me for a moment.”

Many of the maids cast envious glances toward Wei Yingluo. Only Wei Yingluo herself and Momo Zhang felt their hearts sink with a sudden thud.

If the master truly had some instruction, a single sentence would suffice. What matter could possibly require someone to come in person? Most likely, this trip spelled misfortune rather than fortune.

Momo Zhang wanted to protect Wei Yingluo and forced a smile. “Zhilan, isn’t that a bit improper? This girl is still my assistant and hasn’t finished her apprenticeship yet. How about… let me embroider for you instead!”

For the head mammy of an entire embroidery workshop to personally offer to embroider garments for a mere palace maid was already an enormous act of humility and flattery. Yet Zhilan didn’t buy it at all. She scoffed with icy disdain.

“Momo Zhang, don’t play word games with me here. I named the person I want, and that’s who it will be. I won’t have you picking and choosing, swapping this one for that one! Wei Yingluo—follow me!”

The malice in her words was unmistakable to everyone present. All at once, the envy in their eyes vanished, replaced by looks of sympathy or schadenfreude as they stared at Wei Yingluo.

“…Yes.” With no other choice, Wei Yingluo could only steel herself and agree.

Once she and Zhilan had left, the embroidery workshop immediately erupted into chaos. Even though Momo Zhang kept scolding them, she couldn’t stop the little palace maids from whispering furtively among themselves.

“What’s going on? Did Wei Yingluo offend Sister Zhilan somehow?”

“They’ve barely met a few times—how could she have offended her?”

“But… but Sister Zhilan looked like she came here to settle a score.”

Of course she had come to settle a score.

In a side hall of Chuxiu Palace, Wei Yingluo knelt on the ice-cold floor.

She had already been kneeling for a long time. The chill seeped through her knees and burrowed straight into her bones. The room was deathly silent, broken only occasionally by the faint sound of a spoon stirring soup.

Noble Consort Hui sat in a chair. On the red sandalwood tea table beside her rested a bowl of lotus-root-flour dumplings.

The soup was snow-white; the dumplings were pitch-black, as though molded from mud. Black and white contrasted sharply—the black seeming even blacker, the white even whiter—like a landscape painting in ink. But after sitting so long, the dish had gone completely cold, without a trace of steam left.

Deciding that the show of power had gone on long enough, Noble Consort Hui finally set down her spoon and asked slowly and deliberately:

“You are Wei Yingluo?”

“YES!! YOUR LADYSHIP!!” A thunderous shout nearly caused the spoon in her hand to clatter to the floor.

In all her years as Noble Consort, Hui had never encountered anyone who dared shout like that in her presence. She raised a hand to her chest… though in truth she wanted to soothe her still-ringing ears.

“Why are you yelling so loudly?”

Wei Yingluo looked up with a grin. When she had first entered and immediately knelt, Noble Consort Hui hadn’t gotten a proper look at her face. Now that she did, she saw drool still hanging from the corner of the girl’s mouth—apparently she had taken the opportunity to nap a little while kneeling.

“Sorry, Your Highness Noble Consort.” Raising a hand to wipe the drool from her mouth, Wei Yingluo gave a silly laugh. “This servant has always had a loud voice. Momo has beaten me many times for it, but I just can’t change!”

In the palace, whether standing or sitting, everything must follow strict rules—especially for the palace maids who serve the noble ladies. Even the posture for sleeping has its proper form. A foolish girl like her, who could fall asleep while kneeling, was bound to receive ten times more beatings than anyone else.

Noble Consort Hui looked at her suspiciously. “Was it you who said the new leaves of the loquat are poisonous?”

“Yes, they’re poisonous—you can’t eat them!” Wei Yingluo nodded frantically. “Why is Your Ladyship asking about this? Ah—could it be that you want to eat loquat paste? In that case, you absolutely must not eat the seeds, and don’t touch the new leaves either—they’re both toxic! When I was little, I was too greedy and accidentally ate too much. I vomited and had diarrhea so badly I nearly died! Last time, the lady from Yonghe Palace also wanted some, but I managed to stop her—just in time! Oh, and there’s more, there’s more…”

She rattled on and on in a torrent of words, and it looked like she had no intention of stopping. Her voice was so loud that she sounded like dozens of ducks quacking at once, making Noble Consort Hui’s temples throb incessantly.

“Stop, stop, stop!” Noble Consort Hui finally had to cut her off. “What is all this nonsense? Disjointed, incoherent, completely incomprehensible! You’ve been in the palace this long and you still don’t even know how to properly answer your mistress?”

Wei Yingluo nodded, then hurriedly shook her head. Her gaze wandered aimlessly before finally settling—unfortunately, it settled in exactly the wrong place: on the bowl of lotus-root-flour dumplings sitting beside Noble Consort Hui.

“Your Ladyship…” Seeing her swallowing repeatedly, even Zhilan could no longer stand it. She leaned close to Noble Consort Hui’s ear and whispered softly, “This girl… she seems a bit dim-witted…”

Do you think I can’t see what you can? Noble Consort Hui beckoned with her finger. “Come here.”

Wei Yingluo let out an “Oh,” but apparently failed to understand that this meant she should stand up. She remained on her knees and shuffled forward on them all the way to Noble Consort Hui’s feet. The sight of her groveling like a lowly dog nearly made Noble Consort Hui burst out laughing.

“Do you know what this is?” Noble Consort Hui asked, dangling the blue-and-white porcelain bowl in front of her like someone teasing a dog, swinging it left and right.

Wei Yingluo’s head followed the bowl’s movements left and right. She said stupidly, “Are these tangyuan? But why are they black? This servant has never seen black tangyuan before!”

“Poor child—have you really never eaten lotus-root-flour dumplings?” Noble Consort Hui smiled. “Here, they’re yours. Take them and eat.”

She handed the bowl to Wei Yingluo—but gave her no spoon.

“Thank you for the reward, Your Ladyship!” Wei Yingluo took the bowl with an expression of pure delight. Without waiting for a spoon, she simply lifted it to her lips and drank straight from it. The few dumplings that clung stubbornly to the bottom and refused to slide out, she dug out with her fingers and stuffed into her mouth.

“Is it good?” Noble Consort Hui asked kindly.

But anyone who truly knew her understood just how much malice lay hidden beneath that gentle tone.

“Good,” Wei Yingluo replied with a simple, honest grin.

She had never met this person before and could not yet fathom her temperament—but that did not stop Noble Consort Hui from using her own methods to discipline and test her.

“If it’s good, then eat more.” Noble Consort Hui waved her hand. “Zhilan—”

One after another, bowls were carried into Chuxiu Palace.

Blue-and-white porcelain bowls, colored lacquer bowls, fine white porcelain bowls… Though the bowls differed, what they contained was the same: each one filled to the brim with plump, perfectly rounded lotus-root-flour dumplings.

“Eat,” Noble Consort Hui said, reclining lazily in her chair and smiling at Wei Yingluo. “Finish them all before you leave.”

Half the bowls on the floor were already empty, yet more and more kept arriving from outside. Wei Yingluo’s belly was visibly bulging, yet she continued to devour them without pause, gulping and swallowing like someone who would never know the meaning of “full.”

Like a goldfish that doesn’t understand satiety: as long as someone keeps feeding it, it will literally eat itself to death.

Burp.

“Your Highness Noble Consort, you’re truly so kind—you don’t even despise this servant for being greedy!” Wei Yingluo lifted another blue-and-white bowl. Burp. “So delicious… This servant, this servant… urk…”

Some of what she had swallowed was already leaking from the corners of her mouth, yet she seemed completely oblivious, panting heavily as she gulped down the soup still in the bowl.

No Noble Lady in the palace had ever witnessed such a revolting scene. Noble Consort Hui wrinkled her brow, letting out a sneer that mixed disgust with contempt:

“She really is an idiot! I’m tired—get her out of here at once. Just looking at her is an eyesore!”

Zhilan also found it disgusting and didn’t even want to touch Wei Yingluo with her hands. She simply stretched out her foot and nudged her. “That’s enough. Stop eating already. The consort has ordered you to leave!”

Wei Yingluo suddenly sucked in a big mouthful of the soup. Only when Zhilan kicked her again did she pitifully turn her head, mouth still full, speaking indistinctly: “But this servant hasn’t finished eating yet!”

Her gaze fell on the bowl in Wei Yingluo’s hands. Zhilan felt as though even the bowl had become tainted just by being near her. Frowning, she said, “Take the bowl with you!”

“Really?” Wei Yingluo’s eyes lit up.

“Get lost—now!”

Wei Yingluo hurriedly dumped all the remaining lotus-root-flour dumplings into the same bowl, then clutched it to her chest and ran off.

“This… what kind of person is this?!” Watching her keep turning back again and again, as if terrified that someone might change their mind and demand the dumplings back, Zhilan couldn’t help but laugh and cry at the same time. When she returned and recounted the incident to Noble Consort Hui, even the consort couldn’t help showing a similarly dumbfounded, half-amused, half-exasperated expression.

“Next time, ask the Imperial Household Department just what kind of people they’re recruiting!” Noble Consort Hui shook her head as though trying to shake some nauseating image out of her mind. “This is simply an idiot!”

Zhilan had been about to agree, but suddenly she remembered the magnificent sunrise-cloud embroidery she had seen when she first stepped into the embroidery workshop.

A vast expanse of rosy clouds stretching across the sky—among ten thousand people, perhaps not even one could possess such extraordinary skill. Could something like that really be embroidered by an idiot?

Noticing her hesitation, Noble Consort Hui asked, “What is it?”

After hesitating for a long moment, Zhilan finally voiced her true thoughts: “Your Highness… do you think… perhaps she’s only pretending to be stupid?”

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   Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 19: A Man and a Woman Alone

   With a heavy clang, the door of the storeroom slammed shut.

“It’s too dark,” Wei Yingluo murmured.

Behind her came the sharp hiss of a fire striker being lit.

The candlestick on the table was ignited; a small flame danced on the wick. The warm yellow candlelight illuminated a strikingly handsome face.

Long, narrow brows; long, narrow eyes; and similarly long, slender fingers. He resembled a refined scholar painted in fine-line white—an elegant, noble figure from an ancient scroll—except that a faint melancholy lingered between his brows.

That melancholy did not diminish his beauty; on the contrary, it made him stand out even more distinctly among the crowd.

“When Uncle Wei said you were in the palace, I didn’t dare believe it,” he said, shielding the candle flame with his right hand until the flickering light gradually steadied. “I never expected to actually see you today.”

Among the six guards they had encountered in the corridor earlier, the one walking at the very front had been Fucha Fuheng. The one in second position was the man standing before her now.

“And then?” Wei Yingluo asked without turning her head.

“I was also deeply grieved by Yingning’s death.” The man lifted his gaze to her back, his eyes gentle. “But this is the Forbidden City. You cannot act recklessly. You should listen to your father—leave the palace soon, go back out, and find a good family to marry into…”

“Enough!” Wei Yingluo finally turned around; her gaze was as cold as ice and snow. “Who are you to tell me what to do?”

The man sighed. “Because Yingning and I were once close…”

“Don’t you dare mention her name again!” Wei Yingluo cut him off sharply. She hated many people, but she hated the man in front of her most of all. “You and my sister were once close—then why, when she needed you the most, did you abandon her without a moment’s hesitation?”

The melancholy between the man’s brows grew heavier. “She was a bondservant of the Imperial Household Department. Sooner or later she would have to enter the palace. Did you expect me to wait until she was twenty-five?”

“No, Young Master Qingxi.” Wei Yingluo gave a mocking laugh. “It wasn’t that you couldn’t wait for her to leave the palace. It’s because we come from lowly origins. No matter how beautiful my sister was, no matter how virtuous, intelligent, and capable she might have been, a lofty young master like you would never formally marry a woman of inferior birth!”

Seeing the other party fall silent, Wei Yingluo stepped closer and pressed, “What? Did I hit a nerve? Your surname is Qijia—you’re noble Manchu aristocracy. Though my sister came from humble origins, she still had backbone. Since you’ve made a clean break, the two of you have no further connection!”

Qingxi let out a deep sigh. “But I’ve never stopped thinking about your sister…”

“Thinking about her?” Wei Yingluo gave a scornful laugh. “And then when something happened to her in the palace, you just stood by and watched… When clearly you were the only one by her side, the only one who could have helped her—and you just stood there and watched!”

Qingxi closed his eyes in pain. The agonizing memories made even this warrior, strong enough to wrestle a tiger, tremble. “I… after all, I’m a guard. I cannot have dealings with palace maids.”

“I’m a palace maid too,” Wei Yingluo said coldly, taking in his reaction without the slightest softening. “We shouldn’t have dealings either. Now kindly step aside.”

What dealings could there be?

   When her sister needed him most, he had walked away.

   If he had only been toying with her sister, she would hate him for that.

   But if he truly loved her sister, then she hated him even more—for being such a coward!

   As she brushed past him, a sigh came from behind her.

“Every five days,” Qingxi’s voice sounded at her back. “I stand guard once every five days. If there is ever trouble, you may come to the guards’ station and find me!”

Wei Yingluo’s footsteps paused for a moment, then she continued forward. Her hands had just reached the door bolt and she had not yet opened it when suddenly there came a frantic pounding—bang bang bang—followed by Aunt Fang’s voice: “Open the door! Open this door right now!”

Wei Yingluo started in alarm. She turned and exchanged a quick glance with Qingxi.

A man and a woman alone together in a room—if they were truly caught like this, a hundred mouths couldn’t explain it away.

Qingxi’s lips moved as though he were about to speak, but a hand shot out from the opposite side and stopped him. Wei Yingluo mouthed silently to him: Do exactly as I say.

Bang bang bang, bang bang bang—Aunt Fang was still hammering on the door. But in the next instant the door flew open. Before she could react, a bamboo basket came crashing down over her head, followed by a flurry of punches and kicks, accompanied by Wei Yingluo’s voice—half frightened, half furious: “You dare follow me? You dare follow me, you shameless creep, you rogue!”

“Stop! Stop it!” Aunt Fang, who was used to being the one doing the beating, never the one receiving it, scrambled desperately to escape, squealing like a stuck pig. “Wei Yingluo, you’ve gone mad! Stop it—stop right now! Help! Somebody help—save me!”

A group of young palace maids rushed forward at once, some grabbing arms, others hugging legs, and finally managed to pull the two apart.

Aunt Fang yanked the bamboo basket off her head. Her face was livid as she glared at Wei Yingluo. “Yingluo, you’ve lost your mind—how dare you raise a hand against me!”

Wei Yingluo let out an “Ah!” Her own face turned even darker than Aunt Fang’s. “Auntie… how—how could it be you?”

Before Aunt Fang could explode, she dropped to her knees first and began to sob pitifully. “Auntie, please do justice for me! I only came out to look for a lost handkerchief. I never expected someone would follow me on the way—I didn’t know whether it was some lustful little eunuch or some ill-intentioned guard. In a panic I locked myself in the storeroom. Thank goodness you came… sob sob…”

“Some lustful little eunuch or some ill-intentioned guard?” Aunt Fang laughed in furious disbelief. “Listen to your nonsense—couldn’t you recognize my voice? Or does my voice sound so much like a man’s to you?”

“I was truly terrified,” Wei Yingluo said, her shoulders trembling slightly as though she had suffered a great fright. She lifted her sleeve to wipe her tears. “In the moment I couldn’t tell at all. I beg Auntie’s forgiveness…”

“Look at the bruises on my arm.” Aunt Fang rolled up her sleeve, revealing the dark marks from being pinched earlier, and said coldly, “How am I supposed to forgive you for this?”

Wei Yingluo promptly kowtowed without hesitation. “I am willing to accept Auntie’s punishment.”

And so the matter was dropped. Though Wei Yingluo was still punished, it was only for unknowingly beating Aunt Fang. And because Aunt Fang was greedy for money, the punishment fell heavily on fines in coin and goods. After paying a sufficient amount, she only received a token two strokes of the board on her body.

It was far better than being discovered alone in a room with a young imperial guard.

That wasn’t something that could be settled with just a few strokes of the board or a bit of money.

“Fortunately, Qingxi is a true Baturu—quick and agile. He was able to slip away unnoticed amid the chaos I caused.” Wei Yingluo lay face-down on the bed. The wounds on her back had just been medicated, but they still burned fiercely, so painfully that she couldn’t sleep. She could only close her eyes and let her thoughts wander. “But… who was the one who informed on us…?”

Moonlight slanted in through the window, falling in a straight, silver beam across the head of Wei Yingluo’s bed. Slowly, she reached into her bosom and drew out a small braided cord. She spread it open in the moonlight and gazed at it quietly.

“It wasn’t entirely without reward.” Wei Yingluo spoke softly to the cord, her gaze gentle. “Sister, after so long in the palace, I’ve finally found a clue.”

Memories of the past flooded back, vivid and clear.

Last night’s stars, last night’s breeze—it had also been a night when moonlight flowed like silk. She had rested her head on Wei Yingning’s lap, watching her sister’s ten fingers dance as a delicate plum-blossom braided cord gradually took shape at her fingertips.

That plum-blossom cord had entered the palace together with her sister, yet it had not left the palace with her.

Instead, during today’s fight, it had fallen from Aunt Fang’s person.

“Aunt Fang…” Wei Yingluo’s five fingers clenched, gripping the plum-blossom cord tightly in her palm. “How could my sister’s plum-blossom cord end up in your hands?”

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   Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 18: the Guard

Wei Yingluo spent the next few days in fear and trepidation. Whether she was working or resting, her eyes would unconsciously drift toward the main gate.

She was terrified that at any moment someone would push the door open and shout: “Wei Yingluo! You’ve been exposed—come with us!”

Suddenly a hand clapped her shoulder. Wei Yingluo nearly jumped out of her skin. “What? What is it?”

“What do you mean ‘what’?” Jixiang gave her a strange look. “Sister Yingluo, look over there.”

Wei Yingluo followed her gaze. Several imperial guards were walking down the corridor—six in total, all tall and upright, handsome in appearance. Dressed in martial uniforms and wearing swords at their waists, they exuded the utmost masculine valor.

“Look at that one—the last one in line,” Jixiang said in a nostalgic tone. “He looks so much like my older brother.”

“Oh please,” Jinxiu burst out laughing. “Stop putting gold on your brother’s face.”

Jixiang glared at her. “What kind of way is that to talk!”

“I’m not wrong.” Jinxiu waved her fingernails, which she had secretly dyed red with garden balsam juice. “Do you think the guards inside the Forbidden City are just ordinary people? This red wall of the Forbidden City is the dividing line between different kinds of guards!”

Jixiang didn’t understand the meaning behind her words and was unwilling to ask her for clarification, so she turned instead to Wei Yingluo. “Sister Yingluo, can you explain it to me? What does ‘the dividing line for guards’ mean?”

Wei Yingluo sighed and explained as concisely as she could: “The guards outside the red wall belong to the Lower Five Banners, while the guards inside the red wall are all from the Upper Three Banners—imperial relatives and noble descendants.”

Jixiang nodded half-understandingly, then shook her head. “I still don’t get it. Does that mean Noble Ladies have to become guards too?”

“Of course not!” Jinxiu jumped in eagerly. She loved to show off and loved even more to appear more knowledgeable than others. “Let alone the highest rank—the Imperial Bodyguards—even the Qianqing Gate Guards have an extremely high chance of rising to become generals or grand ministers in the future, achieving extraordinary things! Don’t forget: the ones who stay closest to the Emperor at all times are naturally the ones who rise step by step!”

The other palace maids also began chattering all at once, pointing and commenting on the six guards.

“I heard that every year, the noble sons of the Upper Three Banners have to compete in martial contests just to fight for a guard position inside the Forbidden City.”

“It’s not enough to have high birth—you also need truly outstanding martial skills.”

“The most exceptional among the guards is said to be Her Majesty’s younger brother, Lord Fucha. A true master of both civil and military arts, genuine imperial kin!”

“Which one is he? Is he in there?”

“The one leading them—the tallest one!”

Jinxiu’s expression flickered. Suddenly she shoved the tray in her hands into Jixiang’s arms, then clutched her stomach and said, “I have an urgent need—I’ve got to find a place to relieve myself. Jixiang, do me a favor and take these things to the embroidery workshop for me. Ai yo, ai yo, I’m going first!”

“What kind of person is she? Always so much trouble.” Jixiang muttered discontentedly, but didn’t think much more of it.

Beside her, Wei Yingluo watched the direction in which the other girl had disappeared, deep in thought.

She had been in the palace for some time now. If nothing else, her sense of direction had certainly improved—otherwise, wandering into a place she wasn’t supposed to enter would earn her a beating at the very least.

The direction the guards were heading was toward the Imperial Garden, which was also the route to Changchun Palace. If the six guards were to split up here, then in all likelihood Fucha Fuheng was going to Changchun Palace to visit his older sister.

Jinxiu hid behind a rockery, her face flushed, her heart pounding wildly. She kept craning her neck to peek out. Her persistence paid off—she finally caught sight of a lone figure approaching. Gritting her teeth, she picked up a stone and smashed it hard against her own foot.

It hurt!

Fortunately she had already stuffed a handkerchief into her mouth beforehand, so she didn’t cry out in pain.

Supporting herself against the rockery with one hand, Jinxiu staggered to her feet. Judging that the person was now on the other side of the rockery, she used her other hand to smooth the hair at her temple and adjust her facial expression, making herself look even more pitiful and fragile, like a willow swaying in the wind.

Everything was ready. Jinxiu rushed out!

But an arm suddenly reached out from the side and yanked her back behind the rockery.

Outside the rockery, Fucha Fuheng walked past.

Behind the rockery, Jinxiu violently tore away the hand covering her mouth and hissed in fury, “Wei Yingluo! What are you doing!”

“I’ll return that question to you.” Yingluo stared at her. “Jinxiu, what are you trying to do?”

“Every woman wants to secure a good future for herself—what did I do wrong?” Jinxiu suddenly looked Wei Yingluo up and down, suspicion dawning in her eyes. “Don’t tell me… you’ve also set your sights on this tall branch?”

“I wouldn’t dare.” Wei Yingluo gave a mocking laugh, then let the smile fade and spoke coldly: “You and I are both bond servants from the Upper Three Banners. Back when you were still at home, did any sons of dutong or canling ever come to propose to you? Forget dutong or canling—even the son of a banner captain probably never gave you a proper look! If even those families treated you that way, how much more so these true high nobles?”

Her warning was met only with Jinxiu’s dismissive scoff: “As long as you’re beautiful enough, how do you know I can’t climb that high?”

Wei Yingluo paused, stunned for a moment, then frowned at her. “You mean… become his concubine?”

Jinxiu nodded firmly and without hesitation. “Better to be a concubine to a powerful man than a wife to a poor one!”

Everyone has their own ambitions; one cannot force them.

Wei Yingluo shook her head, inwardly concluding that this woman possessed a lovely outer shell but was stuffed full of vanity, unrealistic desires, and extreme selfishness.

“What you think is your own business,” she said coldly, “but remember one thing: this is the Forbidden City. If a guard and a palace maid are caught in an illicit affair and word gets out, he—who comes from noble imperial blood—can have it quietly brushed aside. But you? You’ll be finished. Dead end.” Her expression hardened. “You and I came here together, and we live in the same quarters. If you cause such a scandal, the rest of us will be dragged down and gossiped about along with you.”

Jinxiu gave a mocking laugh. “So it turns out this is all for your own sake.”

“Yes—and it’s also for your own sake.” Wei Yingluo returned a faint smile. “If you don’t want me to tell Aunt Fang what happened today, then come back with me right now.”

Seeing her use Aunt Fang to pressure her again, Jinxiu laughed in furious exasperation and was about to retort sharply when a rich, mellow male voice suddenly came from the other side of the rockery:

“I think this young lady is quite right.”

Immediately afterward, a man in guard’s uniform appeared, arms crossed, stepping around the rockery with a smile directed at them. “You two really should be heading back.”

“Lord Fucha…” Both girls turned at once to look at him.

Some people could wear the dragon robe and still not look like an emperor; others could wear a guard’s uniform and still not look like a mere guard.

Fucha Fuheng was precisely that sort of person.

His bearing was far too noble and refined. Even standing there casually, he resembled a phoenix alighting on a parasol tree, feathers gently unfurling. On anyone else, the simple guard’s attire would signify status; on him, it felt like a deliberate lowering of rank.

His long, narrow phoenix eyes swept across Wei Yingluo’s face. Beneath the outer corner of his right eye lay a single tear mole, adding an indescribable layer of ambiguity and sensuality to his already regal elegance.

“Wei Yingluo,” he called, his voice like fine wine that had been cellared for years—uncorked, it intoxicated before even touching the lips.

Wei Yingluo resorted to her usual tactic, deliberately bowing her head deeply to keep him from fixating on her appearance. “…Lord Fucha, do you have any further instructions?”

“Lift your head and look at me,” Fucha Fuheng said.

With no choice, Wei Yingluo slowly raised her eyes to meet his.

No wonder Jinxiu had declared she wanted to become his concubine.

Those phoenix eyes before her were at once ruthless and yet seemed full of feeling. He didn’t need to speak a single word; merely looking at you with those eyes was enough to fill your heart with a flood of tender affection.

“You have a very clear sense of your own position—that’s good. But you’ve still overlooked one thing.” Fucha Fuheng casually patted the saber at his waist. “The palace guards are all first-rate Baturu (warrior)—including me. Any one of us… would immediately notice someone hiding behind a rockery.”

In other words, Jinxiu’s little scheme had been doomed from the very beginning.

And even if it had somehow succeeded, it would only be because the guard had deliberately allowed himself to be “tricked”—so he could toy with the beauty who had thrown herself into his hands.

Jinxiu bowed her head in shame. Beside her, Wei Yingluo also lowered hers. “Yes… I have learned my lesson.”

“Very well. You should go now.” Fucha Fuheng nodded slightly toward Jinxiu beside her. “Help her back. Discipline her properly when the time calls for it, so she doesn’t cause serious trouble later.”

Wei Yingluo hurriedly supported Jinxiu and led her away. All along the way, Jinxiu’s expression remained sullen—whether from the pain in her foot or from Fucha Fuheng’s words, no one could tell.

“Did you hear that? There are no fools in this palace. Don’t be foolish again,” Wei Yingluo advised one last time.

As expected, the only response was a cold, jealous laugh. Jinxiu shoved her away, limping off alone toward the maids’ quarters. Her voice carried a trace of agitation:

“You used me as a stepping stone again! Lord Fucha remembered your name—but not mine!”

Wei Yingluo shook her head.

This would be the last time. From now on, she would never advise Jinxiu again. Whatever trouble Jinxiu got herself into in the future would have nothing to do with her—she could take responsibility for herself.

Thud.

A small pebble rolled to a stop at Wei Yingluo’s feet. She looked in the direction from which it had been thrown, frowned, and suddenly spoke:

“Are you sure you want to walk back by yourself? You don’t want me to help you?”

“Nonsense!” Jinxiu, hearing this from ahead, immediately quickened her pace. “Who needs your fake kindness? I can walk on my own!”

Enduring the pain in her foot, Jinxiu made her way all the way back to the palace maids’ quarters. The moment she saw the bed, she threw herself onto it, collapsing completely. The sweat from her body left a perfect human-shaped imprint on the bedding.

“Aiyo, what happened to you? You look absolutely wrecked,” said Jixiang as she passed by, a piece of pastry still stuffed in her mouth.

“Eat, eat, eat—that’s all you know how to do. You finish your own share and then go after Wei Yingluo’s too. Do you think she’s being nice to you? She just wants to fatten you up so that standing next to you makes her look even slimmer… Wait!” Having reflexively started sowing discord, Jinxiu suddenly looked around left and right. “Where’s Wei Yingluo?”

“Didn’t she go chasing after you?” Jixiang stuffed another piece of pastry into her mouth. “What, she didn’t catch up?”

Jinxiu froze for a moment, then lowered her head and carefully recalled what had just happened.

In the direction the pebble had come from—what was there?

A lush, verdant wisteria trellis, its dense leaves concealing singing birds, its fragrant breeze lingering around a beauty.

Indeed, a beauty.

A guard whose mere profile already conveyed an upright, slender figure and strikingly handsome features.

Jinxiu abruptly sat up on the bed, her eyes blazing like twin flames.

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   Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 17: First Meeting

   “I don’t understand.” After returning, Wei Yingluo racked her brains but still couldn’t figure it out. So she sought out the only person who could give her an answer. “Momo Zhang, why did Concubine Yi die?”

“A dignified consort, publicly slapped in the face—could she still hold her head up in the palace after that?” Momo Zhang replied indifferently while embroidering a peony flower. “Anyone else might have endured it, but her temperament is famously proud and aloof…”

In other words, Noble Consort Hui knew her personality all too well and deliberately used this humiliating method to force her into such unbearable shame that she chose to take her own life.

“…How foolish.” Wei Yingluo’s face was clouded with gloom; it was unclear whether she was speaking to Concubine Yi or to herself. “Only by staying alive does one have the chance to turn things around. If it were me, forget being slapped—I could even endure having someone spit in my face. I’d endure it all the way until the day I could take revenge and wash away the humiliation!”

A bone-chilling, piercing hatred radiated from her, making Momo Zhang’s skin prickle. She couldn’t help but set down her embroidery hoop and stare at her in shock. “You…”

“It’s nothing.” The surge of hatred came quickly and vanished just as fast. Looking at Wei Yingluo’s face now—bright with a sweet, charming smile—it felt as though that earlier coldness and fury had been nothing more than Momo Zhang’s imagination. “Momo, I’ve finished embroidering. What do you think?”

Momo Zhang took the hoop she handed over. On it was a white peony. Together with the large crimson peony Momo Zhang had yet to finish beside her, both were being prepared for Noble Consort Hui.

This consort was never willing to fall behind anyone. Noble Lady Yu was getting two new outfits—so she demanded twenty. On top of that, matching embroidered handkerchiefs and new shoes, all in peony patterns. Not a single color could repeat, not a single flower design could repeat. It had utterly exhausted the embroidery workshop’s maids.

In the end, even Momo Zhang had to personally take up the needle to barely finish all the patterns within the allotted time.

“Hm, not bad.” Momo Zhang nodded, then glanced at the sky outside. “It’s already this late—you haven’t eaten lunch yet, have you? Go eat quickly.”

“Yes.” Wei Yingluo replied obediently. “I’ll eat fast and try to come back early. I want to finish tonight’s work before the night is over.”

She was always so considerate and likable. Momo Zhang nodded, thinking that her earlier impression must truly have been an illusion…

But after leaving the embroidery workshop, Yingluo did not go to eat.

She couldn’t swallow a single bite.

Every time she closed her eyes, she saw those two feet hanging in the air.

Suddenly opening her eyes wide, Yingluo kicked hard at the tree in front of her.

There were far too many bastards in this rear palace—and the worst part was that they all held high positions and great power. She couldn’t afford to provoke a single one of them. So she could only treat the tree in front of her as their stand-in, kicking it again and again to vent the stifling rage in her heart.

“Insolent servant!”

Wei Yingluo’s heart jolted. She whipped around sharply.

She was so completely absorbed in venting the resentment pent up inside her that she didn’t even notice someone had arrived behind her.

Judging from his clothing and the exquisite horsetail whisk resting across his elbow, this was a eunuch of extremely high status. He barked sharply:

“The Emperor is present—why aren’t you kneeling?!”

…The Emperor?

   Wei Yingluo froze for a moment, then hurriedly dropped to her knees, pressing her face tightly against the back of her own hands.

“This humble servant respectfully greets Your Majesty and wishes You ten thousand years of health.”

The sound of footsteps approached her slowly.

A pair of bright yellow boots stopped right in front of her. A languid male voice sounded above her head:

“Who gave you permission to harm Lingbai?”

Lingbai?

Yingluo’s heart sank—this was bad. Anything given the prefix “ling” (spiritual) immediately became something extraordinary, no longer an ordinary object. She had likely committed a grave offense. At this point she could only pretend to be puzzled:

“This servant boldly asks—I do not know what Lingbai is.”

“You insolent thing! This very tree is Lingbai!” The chief eunuch pointed his whisk at the tree she had just kicked earlier and scolded, “It bears the Emperor’s own brush-written inscription of the two characters ‘Ling Bai.’ Look—there’s even a copper plaque hanging on the back! In the past, countless people would kowtow and pay reverence to it, yet you dared to injure it like this!”

He still had the patience to explain to Wei Yingluo, but the other person clearly did not—or rather, had no interest in wasting time on a foolish little palace maid.

“Drag her away.” The bright yellow boots slowly moved away from her. “Thirty strokes of the heavy staff.”

Thirty strokes?

Wei Yingluo’s face instantly turned pale.

Thirty heavy staff blows—most people wouldn’t die, but they would lose half their life. Afterward she would need a long period of recovery and medical care. Where did she have that kind of time to waste?

Even worse, receiving punishment would become a permanent stain.

A person who had been personally ordered punished by the Emperor—how could she ever stand firm in the harem afterward?

Most likely even Noble Lady Yu and Momo Zhang would have to draw a clear line with her on the surface, lest they accidentally displease His Majesty.

From then on, she would be unable to take even a single step forward in the palace.

She absolutely could not allow such a stain on her record!

“Having entered the palace not long ago, this servant did not recognize Lingbai. However, there is a reason for what this servant did!” Sweat beaded at Wei Yingluo’s temples as she desperately racked her brains.

The bright yellow boots paused.

“Oh?”

Since it was called “spiritual,” it was something profoundly mysterious. In matters like this, there was no need to adhere to ordinary human reason. Wei Yingluo’s eyes darted once; gritting her teeth, she simply went all in:

“This servant truly did not know this was Lingbai. However, last night an old tree appeared to this servant in a dream. It said that it had stood here for many years and its body felt unbearably itchy. It asked this servant to come to the garden, find it, and scratch its back—What this servant was doing just now was precisely scratching its itch for it!”

The chief eunuch sneered coldly:

“The more you speak, the more absurd it becomes. How could a tree appear to you in a dream!”

Wei Yingluo had been waiting precisely for those words. She immediately kowtowed hard, her forehead striking the ground with a resounding thud:

“Since this cypress tree possesses spirituality and is able to provide shade for His Majesty, naturally it can also appear to this humble servant in a dream! Every word this servant has spoken is the absolute truth—there is not a single falsehood!”

The chief eunuch was rendered speechless by her argument. In the end he could only turn his gaze toward the one person present who could decide.

“Enough.” Yet the voice above sounded careless and indifferent:

“Let’s go.”

From the corner of her eye, Wei Yingluo saw the bright yellow boots pass right beside her, followed by pair after pair of black boots, pair after pair of white embroidered shoes, and numerous waist-sheathed sabers—a grand procession that moved off into the distance.

Only after they had gone far did Wei Yingluo finally let out a long breath and collapse weakly onto the ground, her whole body limp with exhaustion.

She had escaped disaster.

Thwack!

A sharp rap landed on the back of her head.

“Ouch.” Wei Yingluo turned her head. “Momo, why are you here?”

“You little brat!” Sweat was also beading on Momo Zhang’s face. “The moment I take my eyes off you for a second, you nearly cause a catastrophe!”

Being scolded like this, Wei Yingluo actually felt her heart soften a little.

“This is personally bestowed by the Emperor himself—sacred spiritual wood.” While helping Wei Yingluo up from the ground, Momo Zhang explained, “Back when the Emperor was traveling incognito during the height of summer, all the ministers were drenched in sweat, yet the Emperor didn’t have a single drop. Everyone found it strange. When the Emperor spoke of it, it was as though, in some mysterious way, a giant cypress had followed him all the way from the Forbidden City, providing shade. Everyone said it was the sacred cypress that knew the Emperor was traveling and deliberately came along to protect him!”

She rambled on at such length precisely because she wanted Wei Yingluo to be more cautious in her actions.

In the palace, some people were dangerous to provoke—and sometimes even trees were.

“I understand.” Wei Yingluo sighed, gazing steadily at the delicate, noble tree beside her, and murmured, “In the Forbidden City, even a tree favored by the Emperor is worth more than a person who has fallen out of favor.”

On the other side, the pair of bright yellow boots suddenly stopped.

All the boots behind them stopped at the same moment.

“Your Majesty?” The chief eunuch looked at him in confusion.

“I was just thinking about court affairs…” Hongli said slowly.

The chief eunuch assumed an attentive, ears-perked posture.

“So it took me a while to react.” Hongli slowly turned his head. The tree shadows swayed; droplets of light filtered through the gaps in the leaves, falling like golden rain across his body and face. Suddenly he smiled. “Now that I think about it carefully—a mere little palace maid—on what basis would a sacred cypress appear to her in a dream?”

Your Majesty, you’re only just realizing this now?!

The chief eunuch thought this in his heart, but on the surface he showed the same righteous indignation, as though he too had only just realized it. Gritting his teeth, he said, “Exactly! This servant only just realized it too. That little girl opened her mouth and spun a whole pack of lies, one after another. She should be arrested—at once—and executed!”

“Do you still remember what she looked like?” Hongli asked calmly, hands clasped behind his back.

The chief eunuch was stunned for a moment, then racked his brains trying to recall…

“Can’t remember, can you?” Hongli said lightly. “All the palace maids dress exactly the same. And right after she spoke, she immediately knelt down, pressing her entire face against the back of her hand. She never lifted her head once.”

The chief eunuch was dumbfounded. “This… this… she did it on purpose…”

Women in the rear palace were all desperate to “show their face.”

Who would have thought someone would go to such lengths to hide her face?

“Now it’s like water poured into the sea, a leaf fallen into the forest. If we want to find her again, we can only try to recognize her by her voice.” Hongli gazed at the swaying trees in the Imperial Garden and said unhurriedly, “Li Yu, while you still remember her voice, go and find that person for me.”

“—Oh, right.” After a moment’s thought, he added with a half-smile, “When you find her, don’t kill her right away. Bring her to me first.”

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   Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 16: New Leaves Are Poisonous

   The three of them waited a long time before finally being received by Noble Lady Yu.

They say pregnant women are the happiest and most beautiful, yet her face was completely blank. When Momo Zhang told her to raise her arm, she raised it; when told to turn, she turned—like a marionette whose strings had been cut, unable to move on its own.

“That’s enough.” After Momo Zhang finished taking her measurements, she asked gently, “What pattern does Noble Lady prefer? Pomegranates with many seeds? Auspicious clouds and immortal cranes?”

Noble Lady Yu looked dazed, her lips moving faintly up and down, murmuring something extremely soft and low.

“Noble Lady, what did you say?” Momo Zhang had to lean her ear close before she could barely make out the words.

“Loquat paste, loquat paste, loquat paste…” Noble Lady Yu kept repeating these three words.

Momo Zhang was stunned for a moment. “Loquat paste?”

These two words seemed to strike Noble Lady Yu like a trigger. She suddenly shouted, “There must be something wrong with that loquat paste!”

Momo Zhang was startled by her outburst. Reflexively, she turned to glance outside the door. Concubine Yi’s punishment was still ongoing, and Noble Consort Hui’s dog-like servants were still standing outside. Who knew if there might be someone with especially sharp ears listening in?

“Noble Lady.” Momo Zhang quickly turned back and cautiously advised, “Physician Zhang is highly skilled. How could he possibly make a misdiagnosis…”

“No, no, no! There’s definitely a problem, definitely a problem!” Noble Lady Yu interrupted her. Then she stared at Momo Zhang for a long time. Suddenly her eyes lit up. She grabbed Momo Zhang’s shoulders tightly and said, “I recognize you. You were there that day too. And you… and you…”

Her gaze slid past Jinxiu and finally landed on Wei Yingluo’s face. With a hollow, shadowy smile she said, “You were all there. You all saw it. Noble Consort Hui wants to harm me. There must be poison in the loquat paste. But… but why couldn’t it be detected? Why? Why?!”

Noble Lady Yu’s voice grew louder and louder, eventually turning into near-hysterical questioning.

Sweat beaded on the tip of Momo Zhang’s nose. She wished she could reach out and cover the Noble Lady’s mouth, but bound by propriety, she could only keep glancing toward the door while pleading, “Noble Lady, this servant begs you—please stop talking…”

“New leaves are poisonous.”

Both Momo Zhang and Noble Lady Yu froze, then turned toward the voice.

Wei Yingluo kept her head lowered and said softly, “Mature loquat leaves are non-toxic. The young leaves are poisonous…”

A chill ran down Momo Zhang’s back. She snapped urgently, “Be quiet!”

“Be quiet!” Noble Lady Yu screamed at her, then quickly stepped in front of Wei Yingluo, her voice trembling slightly. “Go on.”

Wei Yingluo still kept her head bowed, staring at the pale golden osmanthus pattern on the hem of the skirt before her, and continued quietly, “When I was little, I loved eating loquats. Once I accidentally swallowed a seed and had difficulty breathing and kept vomiting. Later a traveling doctor told me that physicians follow the pharmacopoeia to make medicine, and the pharmacopoeia uses aged loquat leaves to make loquat paste. Most people don’t know why. He discovered it by chance: mature loquat leaves are non-toxic, while young leaves and the seeds are poisonous. Taking too much can endanger one’s life…”

“So that’s how it is, so that’s how it is. Young leaves are poisonous, young leaves are poisonous.” Noble Lady Yu murmured the words over and over. “The loquat paste Noble Consort Hui sent must have been made with young leaves. The toxicity is extremely faint, no wonder Physician Zhang didn’t notice it. And even if it were discovered, they could simply claim it was a mistake at the Imperial Pharmacy…”

Suddenly Noble Lady Yu grabbed Wei Yingluo’s arm, her expression feverish. “Come! Come with me to see the Empress!”

“Absolutely not!” Momo Zhang hurriedly blocked them. “Noble Lady, how can the words of a mere palace maid be taken seriously? Is she more reliable than Physician Zhang? Yingluo, do you know what happens when you speak recklessly in the palace? Kneel down!”

Wei Yingluo obediently knelt.

“Noble Lady,” she kowtowed and said, “This servant is of lowly status. Only because of your kindness was I given the chance to speak. But before Her Majesty the Empress, this servant may not even have the opportunity to open my mouth.”

In short, the Empress might not necessarily believe the words of someone as insignificant as her.

“…I understand.” Noble Lady Yu came back to her senses. She looked at Wei Yingluo with a complicated expression and slowly released her grip on the girl’s arm. “I’ll go plead my case to the Empress myself. You…”

After a pause, she asked in a much gentler tone, “What is your name?”

“This servant is called Yingluo,” Wei Yingluo replied respectfully.

Noble Lady Yu nodded at her, then hurried out the door.

The moment she left, Momo Zhang glared fiercely at Wei Yingluo. “Why did you say those things to Noble Lady Yu?!”

Why?

Wei Yingluo gazed at Noble Lady Yu’s retreating figure.

“Protecting oneself wisely—there are most things I can simply ignore, but them alone, this kind of sisterly bond…” Wei Yingluo thought silently to herself, “I cannot just stand by and do nothing. When I see them, it’s as if I’m seeing my older sister and me…”

So, for the sake of this rare and precious sisterly affection, she was willing to take the risk just once.

“Besides, it’s not as if there’s no gain at all.” She mused inwardly. “The rear palace is full of cliques and factions. The two largest are the Empress’s and Noble Consort Hui’s. If I truly offend Noble Consort Hui because of this, I will naturally be drawn into the Empress’s camp… The effect might even be better than directly throwing myself at the Empress. After all, the enemy of my enemy is my friend.”

Wei Yingluo had originally thought she had considered every angle.

But very soon, she realized she had still underestimated this rear palace—and underestimated other people.

“Yingluo!” After returning to the embroidery workshop, Momo Zhang dismissed everyone else and kept only Wei Yingluo behind. Holding her disciplinary ruler in hand, she barked sternly, “Kneel!”

Unlike Aunt Fang, Momo Zhang usually had a sharp tongue but a soft heart; the ruler in her hand had always been more for show and had never truly struck any young palace maid. Now, however, she was genuinely furious. Wei Yingluo hurriedly knelt, then lifted her head to look at her—there was no fear or resentment in her eyes, only worry.

“Momo,” she called softly, like a little granddaughter calling to the grandmother who dotes on her most. “Please don’t be angry. I know I was wrong.”

Momo Zhang’s heart softened, yet her expression grew even sterner. “Do you know exactly where you went wrong?”

“I shouldn’t have told Noble Lady Yu directly, in front of everyone, that the new leaves were poisonous,” Wei Yingluo thought for a moment and said. “I should have written it on a piece of paper, then secretly slipped it into the new clothes being tailored for her. To be even safer, when delivering the clothes I could ‘accidentally’ let the note fall to the ground. If Noble Lady picked it up and asked me about it, I would lie and say I didn’t know who put it on me…”

“Enough!” Momo Zhang cut her off, her tone sinking. “In the end, no matter how many different methods you came up with, you still planned to tell Noble Lady Yu that the new leaves were poisonous?”

Wei Yingluo was silent for a long moment. In the end, she didn’t lie to her and answered quietly, “Yes.”

She had thought she would be punished by Momo Zhang—beaten or scolded—and she was ready to accept it. Yet what she waited for was only a cold, mocking laugh from Momo Zhang.

“Heh.” The laugh sounded half scornful, half pitying. “Then use your own eyes and see for yourself, Yingluo. See with your own eyes what the result of what you’ve done will be.”

The next few days passed in apparent calm.

Because of Momo Zhang’s words, Yingluo remained heavy-hearted and preoccupied.

But no matter how troubled she felt, she could not neglect the work at hand. She cut the fabric that needed cutting, embroidered the flowers that needed embroidering, and in the end, on the appointed day, she finished two new sets of clothing: one embroidered with pomegranates and many seeds (symbolizing numerous children), the other with auspicious clouds and wild cranes. She then delivered both to Noble Lady Yu together.

“I’ll keep this one,” Noble Lady Yu said, pointing to the pomegranate design. Then she pointed to the one with clouds and cranes. “You can deliver this one to Concubine Yi for me.”

Yingluo carefully observed her expression. Unlike the fearful and uneasy woman she had first met, today Noble Lady Yu wore light rouge, her abdomen slightly rounded, and a rare trace of happiness glowed on her face.

“While you’re at it, pass on a message to Concubine Yi from me.” Noble Lady Yu casually rewarded Yingluo with a hairpin. “Tell her to endure just a few more days. In a few days, the Empress will surely stand up for her.”

Yingluo tried several times to decline, but in the end she could not refuse and helplessly accepted the hairpin. At its head were a pair of twin lotuses, one red and one white, entwined together like the closest sisters in the world.

“I am Wei Yingluo, a palace maid from the embroidery workshop. Noble Lady Yu sent me to deliver a newly tailored garment to Concubine Yi.” Acting on someone’s entrustment and fulfilling their trust, Yingluo arrived at Concubine Yi’s residence holding the clothes and announced herself to the palace maid guarding the entrance.

When one prospers, all prosper; when one falls, all fall. Perhaps because Concubine Yi had been punished, the maids in her palace were also anxious and uneasy, their eyes flickering like birds about to scatter the moment a great tree begins to topple.

Hearing Yingluo’s purpose, one of the maids forced a smile. “It’s kind of Noble Lady Yu to still think of our little mistress. Just give the item to me.”

“Noble Lady Yu also has a message she wants me to deliver personally to Concubine Yi,” Yingluo said, pursing her lips with some difficulty. “…She especially instructed me to say it to her with my own mouth.”

The palace maid eyed her with suspicion and wariness for a moment.

“Or perhaps you could ask Concubine Yi first?” Yingluo suggested kindly. “If she’s willing to see me, I’ll go in. If she isn’t, I’ll go report back to Noble Lady Yu. That way, I won’t delay anything, and it won’t put you in a difficult position either.”

“…Fine.” The palace maid finally nodded reluctantly. “Wait here.”

She turned and left. Not long after, a piercing, miserable scream rang out from inside.

The people in the room exchanged glances—then suddenly, as one, they all stepped forward. Big feet, small feet, eunuchs and palace maids alike, in a chaotic rush, poured through the doorway.

Wei Yingluo’s feet were among them, but they suddenly froze right at the threshold of the bedchamber.

Through the open door, what met her eyes were two feet dangling in midair.

They must have belonged to a woman who loved cranes very much and carried herself with aloof pride—even the embroidered shoes swaying gently from side to side were stitched with cranes spreading their wings in flight.

Slowly, her gaze traveled upward along those shoes…

“Concubine Yi…” Wei Yingluo murmured.

A length of white silk was looped around Concubine Yi’s neck, hanging her straight from the beam of the roof.

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   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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   Story of Yanxi Palace, Chapter 13: Embroidery Work

Smack!

“Ow!” A young palace maid rolled off the kang in pain.

Two senior palace maids held candlesticks; the flickering candlelight cast Aunt Fang’s face in shifting patches of light and shadow, making her look half demon, half ghost. She kept swinging the disciplinary ruler in her hand, striking the maid on the floor, all the while cursing furiously: “I told you to keep quiet! I told you to keep quiet!”

“Stop hitting me, Auntie, stop! It hurts! Please stop!” The maid curled up, hands protecting her head, sobbing and pleading. “I don’t want to either, but I can’t control snoring! Ow, ow!”

While she was being beaten, the other palace maids all lay on their sides on the kang, not daring to move a muscle. The two senior maids holding rulers paced in front of the kang, their eyes scanning like butchers selecting lambs for slaughter.

“Palace rules: no noise while sleeping. If one day you’re attending the master at night and make a sound, not only will you be beaten to death—I’ll be punished along with you!” Aunt Fang’s ruler fell mercilessly again and again on the young maid. “If you can’t fix it, I’ll beat you until you can!”

Aunt Fang struck her for a long while until—at last—perhaps tired out, she stopped. After catching her breath, she planted one hand on her hip and said coldly to all the maids:

“Get up. Time to work!”

Everyone looked incredulously toward the window. Outside, the sky was pitch black, like a pool of ink. If you stretched out your hand, it would surely disappear into the darkness; you wouldn’t even be able to see how many fingers you were holding up.

“Aunt—Auntie, it’s only the third watch,” one young maid couldn’t help saying. “The embroidery workshop doors aren’t even open yet…”

But one glare from Aunt Fang silenced her instantly. She scrambled off the kang in a hurry; in her haste, she stumbled and nearly fell.

In an instant the dormitory filled with the rustling sounds of everyone hurriedly dressing. Fearing that the slightest delay would earn them a thrashing, they all rose at top speed.

“Auntie, I’m ready.” Jinxiu always loved to come first in everything, and this time was no exception. She was the first to finish dressing, then trotted over to Aunt Fang and said obediently, “Are we heading to the embroidery workshop now?”

“The embroidery workshop doors aren’t open yet—what would you do there?” Aunt Fang replied coldly.

Jinxiu was stunned. “Then we…”

“The work in the embroidery workshop is work. Doing work for me is also work.” Aunt Fang swept her gaze around the room. “Who is Wei Yingluo?”

Everyone turned to look at Wei Yingluo in unison.

“That would be me.” Wei Yingluo stepped forward calmly, expression unchanged.

Aunt Fang gave a signal with her eyes to the two senior maids she had brought. One of them immediately stepped forward and shoved a thick stack of clothing into her arms.

“Momo Zhang says your embroidery is the best. Embroider appropriate seasonal patterns on all the collars, cuffs, and hems. I want them by dawn!” After giving the order, Aunt Fang raised her hand and pointed at the remaining young maids one by one:

“You seven—split into two groups. You, you, you—you three go heat water, prepare soap and towels. I want to bathe at dawn. The rest of you, clean the courtyard. Every single floor tile had better be shining. Move!”

Everyone hurried to their tasks.

Jixiang had been assigned to attend Aunt Fang—a duty that, on the surface, was a good one: lighter than sweeping the courtyard, and it gave her a chance to speak directly with the aunt in charge of them. Jinxiu, who had also been assigned to the same group, was already grinning from ear to ear.

But Jixiang couldn’t smile at all. In her eyes, Aunt Fang was no different from a fierce tiger or wild beast. Attending her bath felt about as safe as pulling teeth from a tiger.

“Don’t pull such a long face.” Wei Yingluo’s gentle voice suddenly sounded softly beside her ear. “Learn from Jinxiu—smile more. You look very cute when you smile.”

“I could never learn from her,” Jixiang muttered, pouting. Then she looked up at Wei Yingluo with open admiration. “Sister Yingluo, you’re amazing. How did you know Auntie would come back?”

If not for Wei Yingluo’s earlier reminder, the one who would have just received the beating would almost certainly have been her.

Jixiang also had the habit of snoring. The reason she wasn’t caught by Aunt Fang was that, after listening to Wei Yingluo’s words, she was so frightened she couldn’t fall asleep. She remained awake until Aunt Fang returned once more.

Wei Yingluo laughed. “A new official lights three fires upon taking office. Even if no one were snoring, she’d find some other pretext to beat someone—just to make us fear her, so that from now on we wouldn’t dare disobey her… All right, go quickly. Don’t keep Auntie waiting too long.”

She watched with a smile as Jixiang hurried away, then shook her head with a chuckle and lowered her gaze to the clothes in her hands.

Someone skilled in embroidery could take a person’s measurements with just a glance. Upon close inspection, these garments were exactly the right length for Aunt Fang to wear—it was obvious she was abusing her position, making the little palace maids under her alter her personal clothes for her own benefit.

Perhaps so as not to steal the spotlight from their mistresses, the palace maids’ clothing was all kept plain and simple. In this regard, there wasn’t much difference between senior and junior maids. The several sets of clothes in her hands were the same: pale, subdued colors with hardly any patterns to be found no matter how much she turned them over.

“Women love to dress up prettily—even the women who enter the palace are no different,” Wei Yingluo thought to herself. “No—in a place filled entirely with women, the competition between women becomes even fiercer.”

Picking up needle and thread, Wei Yingluo embroidered a string of wisteria flowers along the collar and cuffs of the garment. The wisteria vines twined gracefully together, exuding the calm elegance of a mature woman. In an instant, this ordinary palace maid’s robe was elevated to a higher level. The design suited Aunt Fang’s status perfectly—neither as flamboyantly luxurious as peonies nor as ostentatiously grand as herbaceous peonies, so it wouldn’t risk overshadowing the mistresses.

She embroidered so thoughtfully that even someone as nitpicky as Aunt Fang couldn’t find a single fault.

Aunt Fang turned the garment over and over in her hands for a long while. Finally her gaze settled on the wisteria flowers at the cuff. Her delight was plain to see; she stroked them fondly for quite some time, yet her voice remained cool and detached:

“Not bad embroidery. Do the same for the rest of them—different patterns for each.”

“Yes, Auntie,” Wei Yingluo replied obediently. “Shall I do it now?”

Aunt Fang glanced at the sky. She would have liked Wei Yingluo to start embroidering right away, but even abusing her authority had its limits. Regretfully, she shook her head. “Go have your meal first. After eating, head to the embroidery workshop to work.”

Wei Yingluo pursed her lips into a small smile. “Yes.”

Aunt Fang left carrying the robe embroidered with wisteria. Judging from her eager expression, she was clearly impatient to change into it at once and go show it off to her sisters.

“Look at that—someone’s latched onto a real golden thigh again,” Jinxiu muttered darkly to the other little palace maids behind her back. “What a born good slave. If we want to live comfortably, we all have to learn from her.”

Jixiang couldn’t stand to hear such talk and was about to confront her when Wei Yingluo held her back.

“Yingluo-jie, she’s talking about you like that—aren’t you angry?” Jixiang fumed.

Wei Yingluo smiled. Her time was far too precious to waste on someone as insignificant as Jinxiu.

“Jixiang, can you do me a favor?” Wei Yingluo asked.

“Just say it,” Jixiang replied without even asking what the favor was.

“I won’t be going to breakfast. Could you bring me a steamed bun?” Wei Yingluo said. “I have something to take care of—I’ll head to the embroidery workshop first.”

At this hour, the embroidery workshop was like a person in deep sleep—perfectly still and utterly silent.

Wei Yingluo didn’t idle either. She gently swept the fallen flowers in front of the door into a neat pile with her broom. Wisteria bloomed at the entrance of the embroidery workshop; the ground was covered in petals of every shade of purple, deep and pale, and even the broom picked up a faint floral fragrance.

“Why are you here so early?” a voice asked from behind her.

Wei Yingluo paused her sweeping, turned, and smiled. “Good morning, Momo Zhang.”

This meeting had been carefully planned in advance.

Momo Zhang worked in the embroidery workshop. She was always the first to arrive and the last to leave. By skipping breakfast and waiting at the door, Wei Yingluo was certain to catch her.

Of course, she would never say that out loud. Instead, Wei Yingluo smiled and explained:

“Today is my first day working in the embroidery workshop. I was afraid of being late, so I came early.”

Old people always like children who follow the rules, and Momo Zhang was no exception. On her usually stern, almost unapproachable face, a rare trace of a smile appeared: “You’re a child who understands propriety.”

Wei Yingluo certainly did understand propriety.

For the next half month, she rose early every day to embroider clothes for Aunt Fang—wisteria and autumn orchids, carp and bluebirds; the patterns never repeated. As soon as the sun began to rise, without even eating breakfast, she would pick up her cleaning tools and hurry to the embroidery workshop.

Some people tried to imitate her, but after four or five days they gave up.

“She’s truly born to be a servant,” Jinxiu said to others. “I could never learn to be like her.”

She couldn’t learn—and didn’t want to—because there were no visible benefits.

Although Wei Yingluo worked privately for Aunt Fang every day, she still received beatings from Aunt Fang’s board. Though she swept and cleaned in front of the embroidery workshop before dawn each day, Momo Zhang showed her no favoritism. The workload assigned to her was the same as everyone else’s—sometimes even a little more.

Many people secretly laughed at Wei Yingluo behind her back: working so hard yet gaining nothing—what was the point?

Yet Wei Yingluo continued on her own path, indifferent to the gossip. She persisted in this routine day after day. Though she received no tangible rewards, the way Aunt Fang and Momo Zhang looked at her grew softer and softer—especially Momo Zhang, who in her spare moments would even chat with her about everyday things.

Wei Yingluo always listened quietly, occasionally offering a comment or two, or asking one or two harmless questions. Seeing how well-behaved and sensible she was, Momo Zhang would casually answer her.

“Momo, would red or green be better for this part?”

“Red. Red is more festive.”

“Momo, for the handkerchief for Noble Lady Yu, would embroidered golden carp be better, or orchids?”

“Golden carp. It’s more auspicious.”

“Momo, compared to Wei Yingning’s embroidery, whose is better?”

“Yingning’s is better.” Momo Zhang answered out of habit. Only after the words left her mouth did she pause slightly and stare at the girl in front of her—Wei Yingluo.

Wei Yingluo smiled back at her.

One full month—every meeting, every seemingly casual question and answer—had all been leading to this one moment: to make Momo Zhang answer her next question instinctively, without thinking.

Momo Zhang stared at Wei Yingluo for a long time before slowly saying, “I misheard. I don’t know anyone named Wei Yingning.”

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