Palace maid Shuoning

(Up)

spring equinox.

Jiang Shuoning stood under the corridor and instructed the palace maids and eunuchs to sweep the courtyard.

The courtyard was sparsely populated, and everyone looked pale and walked slowly, their work done in a sluggish manner.

Feng Chun shuffled past her, her steps still a little unsteady, one hand on her hip, and turned back to give her a forced smile:

"Sister Shuoning, is your injury... feeling any better?"

Jiang Shuoning withdrew his gaze and said calmly, "It's alright. Just take care of yourself."

Feng Chun grinned: "It's good that you're alright, sister. Well... I'll go move the flowerpots from under the west wing out to air them in the sun. It's the Spring Equinox, the flowers should wake up too."

After saying that, she supported her back and slowly moved towards the west corridor, step by step. After taking a few steps, she turned back and added softly:

"Sister, you should get some sunshine too. Your face has been so pale these past few days."

Jiang Shuoning did not respond, but turned his head and saw Qing'er standing under the corridor in a daze.

Over the past ten days or so, Qing'er's complexion has become worse and worse.

Sometimes he talks to himself, sometimes he is awakened by nightmares, and sometimes he talks nonsense in the middle of the night.

This morning she specifically told Qing'er to go back to her room and rest, so why did this girl run out again?

Jiang Shuoning stepped over and said softly, "It's windy today, let's go back inside."

Qing'er didn't move, her gaze fixed on the direction of the backyard, as if she were nailed to it.

"Qing'er?"

I called out several times, but there was no response.

Jiang Shuoning raised his hand and patted her back. Qing'er shuddered and turned her head away.

Her eyes were wide open, staring straight at her. There were dark circles under her eyes, and her face was frighteningly pale.

"Sister." Qing'er suddenly leaned in and grabbed Jiang Shuoning's hand, her voice low and urgent: "Sister, there are ghostly figures in the backyard. I've seen them several times. Sister, is it Sister Suihe who has come back to find us?"

As she spoke, she tilted her head, her eyes fixed straight ahead, like a taut string.

"Fengchun said that Sister Suihe will turn into a vengeful ghost to claim lives. Is that true?"

Jiang Shuoning's wrist ached from her grip, but he didn't pull away. Looking down at Qing'er's gaunt face, he remained silent for a moment before speaking:

"There are no ghosts or monsters in the world. Even if there were, she would come looking for me, not you. Go back inside and rest."

Qing'er's lips moved as if she wanted to say something, but Jiang Shuoning grabbed her hand and tightened his grip: "Go back inside."

So Qing'er obediently nodded, turned around and walked into the house. Her body was as thin as a sheet of paper, as if a gust of wind would fold her over.

She moved slowly, muttering incoherently, "It's my fault...it's all my fault..."

Jiang Shuoning watched Qing'er enter the house, his expression growing increasingly grave.

After Suihe committed suicide, Qing'er took all the blame upon herself, unable to sleep soundly at night and in a daze during the day.

Jiang Shuoning closed his eyes, feeling a dull, heavy feeling in his heart, a mixture of sourness and bitterness that he couldn't quite put his finger on. It was pressing down there, and he just couldn't shake it off.

Suihe died before their eyes, but the living were as if they were tied to a thread, and no one could break free.

Qing'er was like that, and so was she herself. She just didn't say it.

And the letter Suihe mentioned is like a thorn stuck in my heart; I can't get out now, and I can't verify its authenticity.

More importantly, Consort Rong was on edge every day, afraid to relax for fear that someone might stab her in the back if she wasn't careful.

Suihe is gone; she dares not think about who will be next.

The spring breeze swept through the courtyard, making the old curtains under the eaves rustle.

Just then, the palace gates opened, and the servants brought breakfast.

Two new guards appeared at the gate, who were easier to talk to and more friendly than the previous two.

"Miss Shuoning, this is Her Majesty's breakfast." The one in the lead had a thick beard and a clear voice. "Last night you said Her Majesty was tired of spring pancakes and wanted lotus root starch dumplings this morning, so we've prepared those as well."

Jiang Shuoning took the food box, his brow twitching almost imperceptibly, before he smiled:

"Thank you." Reaching for the loose silver, the bearded guard waved his hand and whispered, "Someone already gave it to me."

After saying that, he turned around and helped his companion carry in several large food boxes, then called out loudly, "Time to get your food!"

Jiang Shuoning calmly switched the food box in one hand, quickly tucked the note in his other hand into his sleeve, and strode into the hall.

Behind them came Feng Chun's muffled complaint: "It's just watery soup and buckwheat buns again. If we keep eating like this, we'll all turn into dried corpses in three months."

(under)

Inside the hall.

Jiang Shuoning placed the breakfast from the food box in front of Consort Rong one by one.

A bowl of red date and pork rib soup, a plate of stir-fried seasonal vegetables, a plate of osmanthus cake, and four steaming hot meat buns.

Finally, there was a bowl of lotus root starch dumplings, translucent and white, floating in amber-colored sugar water.

Consort Rong lowered her eyes to look at the food spread across the table, then looked up at Jiang Shuoning, a faint smile playing on her lips:

"I originally thought that after being confined to my quarters, the servants in the imperial kitchen, who were used to treating people differently based on their status, would be lucky if they could even give me a bowl of hot porridge. I never expected that not only would they not be stingy, but they would be very considerate."

Spring pancakes have been delivered for thirteen days straight, without fail; last night I casually mentioned wanting lotus root starch dumplings, and they arrived first thing this morning.

She paused, then said slowly, "Shuoning, tell me, why is that?"

Jiang Shuo Ning worked tirelessly, arranging the bowls and plates neatly one by one, his tone as usual:

"Your Majesty is joking. No matter how skilled the imperial kitchen staff are at judging people, they wouldn't dare to truly mistreat Your Majesty. After all, Your Majesty's rank is what it is, and this confinement is only temporary; the days ahead are long."

Upon hearing this, Consort Rong picked up a spoon, scooped up a mouthful of red date and pork rib soup, blew on it, but didn't drink it. She raised her eyelids and slowly looked at her:

"Is that so? Then do you think it's my position that matters, or is someone else pulling strings behind the scenes for me?"

Jiang Shuoning lowered his eyes, pushed the soup bowl towards her, and a very faint smile appeared at the corner of his mouth:

"Your Highness knows better than I do. I only serve Your Highness your meals; I have no say in anything else."

Consort Rong stared at her for a couple of moments, then suddenly laughed and pushed the bowl of lotus root starch dumplings in front of her toward Jiang Shuoning:

"Since you don't know, then eat more and think it through for me."

Jiang Shuoning looked at the bowl of meatballs but didn't touch them.

Thirteen days. Consort Rong ordered thirteen days' worth of spring pancakes. When they were served at dinner, she didn't touch a single one and pushed them all to her.

She ate for thirteen days, vomited thirteen times in private, could hardly eat a grain of rice during the day, felt nauseous and churning in her stomach, and lost a lot of weight.

Now that spring pancakes are too much, people are switching to lotus root starch dumplings. These are slippery and sticky, making them even harder to eat.

She knew it perfectly well.

Consort Rong was doing this on purpose. At first, she thought it was because of Suihe, but later she gradually realized it was more than that. Consort Rong would occasionally blurt out a remark.

"You must apply medicine to the wound on your neck on time. The Emperor himself said that you should not have a scar."

There was resentment, jealousy, and something else in his tone that was hard to explain.

Half of it was to vent my anger on her, and the other half was because I couldn't stand seeing her doing well.

"What's wrong? Don't you want to eat?" Consort Rong's voice drifted over.

Jiang Shuoning picked up the bowl, paused for a moment with his fingertips along the rim, and then replied in a low voice:

"It's a gift from Your Majesty, this servant dares not refuse it." After saying that, she scooped up a lotus root starch ball and put it in her mouth.

The glutinous rice skin clung softly to her tongue, and the sesame filling inside was sickeningly sweet. She swallowed it without much chewing, feeling as if a wet cotton ball was stuck in her throat.

After breakfast.

Jiang Shuoning clutched his aching stomach and slowly made his way back into the house, his face deathly pale.

My stomach felt like it was filled with a lump of wet dough, heavy and sluggish, and it wouldn't dissolve for a long time.

I feel nauseous, but I can't vomit.

She frowned as she sat down on the bed, took the slip of paper from her sleeve, and slowly unfolded it:

The ointment from the Imperial Medical Academy has been prepared. Someone will come to Yihua Palace this evening to take you to the Imperial Medical Academy.

It is Baozhong's courtesy name.

Jiang Shuoning stared at the note for a moment.

She knew all too well that the lavish meals Consort Rong was receiving after being confined to her quarters were all arranged by Bao Zhong in secret, simply to make Consort Rong less difficult for her.

And Zhou Zhengyin. That idiot.

At midnight, he would always sneak over the wall from the backyard and try to catch a glimpse of her.

Two days ago, he didn't wear the eunuch's clothes. Instead, he changed into the moon-white robe from the three outfits she had given him. The robe was wide and long, hanging loosely on his body, as if he had stolen someone else's clothes.

He was hiding in the yard wearing that outfit, and almost got spotted. Luckily, she noticed him early and gave him a quiet scolding.

He, on the other hand, squatted by the wall, looking up at her with a silly grin, not taking the scolding to heart at all.

Thinking of this, the corners of her mouth unconsciously curved slightly.