Palace maid Shuoning

(Up)

As evening fell, rumbling thunder rolled across the sky, lightning tore through the clouds, and a torrential downpour followed.

Consort Rong walked out of her bedchamber, stopped under the eaves, and stared blankly at the rain.

Jiang Shuoning went out early this morning and hasn't returned yet. She clutched her embroidered handkerchief, her knuckles turning white.

Did she really use the pretense of delivering scriptures to seduce the emperor?

Her phoenix eyes narrowed, and she gave a cold laugh.

In this palace, who among those with even a little bit of beauty wouldn't want to climb into the emperor's bed?

Besides, the Emperor treats Jiang Shuoning differently. She still remembers his words, "Don't let her have a scar on her neck."

The sound of rain filled her ears. She walked to the steps, loosened her embroidered handkerchief in her hand, and then clenched it again.

She trusted no one, including Jiang Shuoning. All her probing and testing ultimately amounted to nothing.

Bao Zhong's decision to have her copy scriptures was probably not to help her, but rather to provide a stepping stone for Jiang Shuoning.

In this deep palace, who didn't climb to the top by stepping on others? She, Consort Rong, was one. Jiang Shuoning? A palace maid, with some beauty, why was she an exception?

The rain didn't stop. She stood there for a long time. The wind rushed into the corridor, fluttering her clothes; her skirt was already soaked through, clinging coldly to her ankles.

"Your Majesty..."

Fengchun, carrying a food box, ran through the rain from the courtyard, quickly climbing the steps. She stood panting beside Rongfei, her voice trembling:

"Your Majesty... Sister Shuoning... has been punished by the Emperor."

Consort Rong turned her head upon hearing this, looking surprised: "Punishment?"

Feng Chun nodded hastily:

"Just now, when I went to the palace gate to fetch dinner, I heard from the guards that Sister Shuoning had a conflict with Consort Wei this afternoon and hit Consort Wei's maid. The Emperor saw it, and it seems... it seems the Emperor was very angry and made Sister Shuoning kneel on the palace path of Guanghua Hall..."

Consort Rong frowned suddenly: "What exactly happened?"

Feng Chun hurriedly shook his head: "This servant doesn't know either. I just heard from the guards that the commotion was quite big, and the Emperor is very angry..."

As if remembering something, her voice lowered slightly: "The guard said that the real reason why Sister Shuoning angered the Emperor... was because she kept speaking up for Your Majesty."

Consort Rong did not speak. She turned her head back and looked at the rain again.

The rain was still falling. The water from the eaves formed a continuous line, splashing into the puddles in front of the steps and breaking into concentric ripples.

Feng Chun timidly raised her eyes to look at Consort Rong, wiping the rain from her face with her sleeve. After a moment's hesitation, she stammered:

"...Your Majesty, do you think...maybe we're mistaken? If Shuoning really wanted to seduce the Emperor, I'm afraid...I'm afraid she wouldn't have waited until today..."

In the end, he lost his confidence and lowered his voice, secretly glancing at Consort Rong's expression.

Consort Rong did not move, still gazing at the rain. Only the hand that was clutching the embroidered handkerchief slowly loosened its grip slightly.

The sound of rain filled the entire Yihua Palace, dripping from the eaves.

She stood there for a long time before finally speaking: "Let's wait a little longer. Let's see if she can come back tonight."

After saying that, he turned and went into the bedroom, the door of which slowly closed behind him.

Fengchun stood under the eaves, looking at the rain, shrank her neck, and didn't dare to say anything more.

(under)

The imperial study was brightly lit.

The Emperor sat upright before his desk, his vermilion brush hovering over the memorial, not falling for a long time.

The sound of rain seeped in through the cracks in the window, dense and incessant, like countless fine needles pricking the glazed tiles, making one feel restless and annoyed.

Feng Xi stood to the side, observing the Emperor's expression. Seeing a hint of anger lurking beneath the Emperor's brow, he bowed slightly and tentatively began to speak:

"Your Majesty, it's almost 7 PM. Should I send someone to prepare the meal?"

The emperor did not respond, his gaze falling on the scroll of scriptures on the corner of the table.

The scroll that Consort Rong copied was placed on the Emperor's desk again at some point.

Outside the palace, Bao Zhong gazed at the heavy rain, his face grim and uncertain. He glanced at the Emperor, lowered his head in thought for a moment, then picked up the food tray from the maid beside him and steadily walked inside.

"Your Majesty, it's raining heavily outside, and it's chilly tonight. The Imperial Kitchen has prepared ginseng soup; why not have a bowl to warm yourself up?"

The Emperor glanced at him, his gaze lingering on his face for a moment before returning to the scroll of scriptures:

"Didn't I tell you to deliver the scriptures to the Guanghua Hall? Why are they still here?"

Bao Zhong, carrying the food tray, bowed slightly:

"Your Majesty, the monks at Guanghua Palace say that the scriptures Consort Rong sent this year lacked Your Majesty's handwriting."

He paused for a moment, his voice lowering slightly:

"My master also said that every year when Consort Rong came to make offerings, she would linger a little longer in front of the Buddha, as if she had something to say. Sometimes, after standing for a long time, she would softly murmur, 'May she be well.'"

The Emperor paused slightly in his hand holding the pen. He remembered that child, the way Consort Rong held her tightly, and the long silences between them after copying the scriptures all those years ago.

"May she be well"—she never mentioned this phrase to him.

The imperial study remained quiet for a long time, so long that the candlelight flickered briefly before returning to its steady state.

The Emperor put down his vermilion brush, picked up the scroll of scriptures from the corner of the desk, placed it beside him, and began to peruse it, his voice low and deep:

"How long has Consort Rong been under house arrest?"

Feng Xi gave Bao Zhong a cold look and replied first, "Your Majesty, it has been a month."

The Emperor looked at Consort Rong's handwriting, a hint of tenderness flashing in his eyes: "How long do I say she will be confined?"

Feng Xi was taken aback, then immediately understood the Emperor's meaning: "It seems the Emperor didn't explicitly say so."

The Emperor nodded slightly, then closed the book: "Let Consort Rong go with us to pay respects to our ancestors during Qingming Festival."

After speaking, he turned his gaze indifferently to Bao Zhong: "Jiang Shuoning, are you still kneeling?"

Bao Zhong bowed his head and said, "Your Majesty, that girl is honest and kind-hearted. She will kneel when Your Majesty tells her to."

"Honest and cunning?" The Emperor sneered. "She'd rather kneel than come to me. Is that honest? She's just playing hard to get. Fine, then let her keep kneeling."

After speaking, the Emperor rose and walked towards the palace gate. "Feng Xi, go to the Empress's palace."

Feng Xi immediately followed, and when he reached Bao Zhong's side, a sinister glint flashed in his eyes.

Bao Zhong stood there, listening to the Emperor and Feng Xi's footsteps gradually fade into the distance, his heart taut with tension.

His words just now, seemingly paving the way for Consort Rong, were actually meant to help Jiang Shuoning out of his predicament.

But once the emperor uttered the phrase "feigning indifference to lure the enemy," all avenues were blocked.

He closed his eyes, then slowly opened them again, exhaled softly, and turned to carry the food tray out of the hall.

The night was deep, and the rain was pouring down. The water on the palace road reflected the faint light of the palace lanterns, shattering into pieces.

Jiang Shuoning knelt on the blue bricks, rainwater streaming down her temples, past her brow bone and chin, and dripping into the puddles in front of her knees.

Her plain white dress was already soaked through, clinging to her body. The thin fabric felt heavy, and the chill seeped into her bones through the material.

She finally couldn't hold on any longer, her hands braced against the rain, her lips pressed tightly together.

The scriptures were indeed handed to the Emperor today, but his attitude was lukewarm.

She wasn't sure if the scroll of scripture was actually useful. Even more uncertain was how to explain it to Consort Rong.

Suddenly, a pair of black boots came into view. Jiang Shuoning looked up and saw Zhou Zhengyin squatting beside her with an umbrella, covering her with the umbrella while leaving most of his body exposed to the rain.

"Aunt..." His eyes reddened as he took out a package of oil paper from his pocket and handed it to her. "These are the pastries that Eunuch Qiao gave me yesterday. I couldn't bear to eat them, so I saved them for you."

Jiang Shuoning looked at him; his eyes were still so gentle and clear. She slowly looked away, glanced at the oil paper package he offered, pursed her lips, and took it.

Opening the oil paper package revealed two pieces of white jade frost cake.

Her eyelashes fluttered, and she picked up a piece, took a small bite, and the soft, sweet flavor spread in her mouth.

But she couldn't swallow it; it felt like something was stuck in her throat, making her choke and uncomfortable.

"Auntie, I'll stay with you."

After Zhou Zhengyin finished speaking, he knelt down beside her, tilted the umbrella towards her, and took off his outer robe and draped it over her shoulders.

His outer garment still carried his body heat, the warmth seeping in through his shoulders.

Jiang Shuoning held the half-piece of cake, not looking at him, and said in a hoarse voice, "If someone sees us, neither of us will survive."

Zhou Zhengyin didn't move: "I know, but I can't let you kneel here alone."

Jiang Shuoning rewrapped the other pastry, stuffed it into his hand, and without looking at him, her voice was as cold as rain-soaked bricks:

"You're really putting on a brave face. The least valuable thing in this deep palace is your self-righteous sincerity. I don't need you to stand in the rain with me, and I don't need your two pieces of pastry that you can't bear to eat."

Remember! You should focus on your studies now; that's far more useful than kneeling here.

Zhou Zhengyin clutched the bag of pastries, his voice low and soft:

"I know I don't deserve to soften my aunt's heart, nor do I deserve that piece of cake to move you. But I just wanted to come, even if it's just to hold an umbrella for you, even if you don't look at me once from beginning to end, I still want to stay here."

He paused for a moment, then said, "Auntie, don't worry about me falling behind in my studies. I've been memorizing all day long, I haven't dared to slack off. I've memorized all the characters that Grandpa Baozhong taught me."