A few wisps of faint white clouds floated silently in the azure sky. A gentle breeze carried the overwhelming fragrance of osmanthus flowers throughout the courtyard. Lady Du reclined on a couch by the window, her eyes filled with the weight of years. She still remembered when she was young, whiling away an afternoon with Lin’er and Xue’er, spreading white silk beneath the osmanthus tree. Her jade-like hands wielded a jade pole, striking the branches of the osmanthus tree, causing a shower of golden, fragrant petals to rain down.
The golden osmanthus flowers were collected to make wine, preserves, or fragrances—nothing went to waste. In those days, whether awake or asleep, the sweet scent of osmanthus always lingered, much like her youthful, sweet dreams of the future—tranquil and lovely.
“My lady, it’s time for your medicine,” Jin Zhu’s voice suddenly rang out from behind, not only interrupting her thoughts but also startling her. She frowned with displeasure, a mix of resignation and hatred as she took the bowl of dark, murky medicine and drank it in one gulp. This girl, Jin Zhu, moved silently like a ghost, appearing and disappearing without warning. Sometimes, when Lady Du woke from a nightmare in the middle of the night, she would suddenly find herself face to face with Jin Zhu, often losing two of her three souls in fright. She wanted to scold the girl but often found herself unable to do so.
She was different now from before. Of all her former glory, only this girl remained, stubbornly by her side, tirelessly taking care of her meals and daily needs. If she scolded or hit her now, where would she find another person she could trust and confide in?
She sighed almost inaudibly and said unhappily, “This medicine tastes worse and worse. I always feel there’s a strange flavor in it.”
“That happens when you take medicine for a long time. This prescription is slightly different from before,” Jin Zhu said, her gaze heavy as she looked at the empty bowl, satisfied. “My lady, the imperial physician said that after taking this medicine for another month, your illness will be cured.”
Lady Du laughed coldly, “He said the same thing over a month ago.” Yet there was no sign of improvement. Her spirit continued to deteriorate. During the day, she could rest a bit, but at night she was plagued by endless nightmares, never sleeping for more than an hour at a stretch. Waking and sleeping, sleeping and waking—for others, sleep was a pleasure, but for her, it was pure torture.
Jin Zhu curved her lips sarcastically behind Lady Du, but her tone remained as respectful and careful as ever: “Should we change to another imperial physician?”
Lady Du neither agreed nor disagreed, still harboring some hope: “Let’s try again.” She had fallen ill shortly after coming here. At first, she just felt weak and listless, but gradually she lost her appetite and suffered from nightmares and insomnia. She had seen countless imperial physicians, but they could only help for ten to fifteen days before the symptoms returned. In the capital, apart from the royal physicians, these were the best doctors available. Who else could she turn to? Go back to the previous ones?
“What would you like to eat? I’ll make it for you,” Jin Zhu looked at her worriedly. “You’ve lost weight again. Look at your hands, they’re just skin and bones. This can’t go on.”
Lady Du raised her hand, seeing the dry, pale skin with blue-purple veins visible underneath, and then just bone. She quickly hid her hand in her sleeve, disgusted—these hands were once praised as the most beautiful in the world, but now she couldn’t bear to look at them a second time. She said angrily, “Make me a bowl of bird’s nest soup.”
Jin Zhu looked troubled: “There’s only a small amount of bird’s nest left.”
Lady Du snapped irritably, “Why didn’t you say so earlier?”
Jin Zhu sighed apologetically: “I did tell you, my lady… You…”
Had she forgotten again? Lately, her memory was getting worse. She’d heard that sleeping pills could affect one’s memory, and it seemed the medicine was taking its toll. But what could she do? She couldn’t go without sleep. She never realized before that the inability to sleep peacefully was one of the most unbearable sufferings in this world. Lady Du bit her lip imperceptibly and took out a handkerchief with keys tied to it from her bosom, handing it over: “Open the box and take money to buy some.”
Jin Zhu carefully accepted the keys but didn’t immediately go to get the money. Instead, she said, “The other day, Aunt Cui came to say that the main hall needs renovation, and you’re also out of rice. The charcoal for boiling your medicine regularly…”
Lady Du grew irritated: “Doesn’t Taoist Cui just want money? Give it to her then.” She thought back to when she was still the Duchess. Back then, Taoist Cui would have bent over backward to please her. Now, truly, a phoenix without feathers was not as good as a chicken. Cui kept asking for money every few days, and last time she even wanted Lady Du to give up her courtyard for some madam to live in. The more she thought about it, the angrier she became, and her headache worsened.
Jin Zhu cast a cold glance at her and went into the inner room, rummaging around for a while before coming out with two strings of coins, showing them to her: “My lady…”
Lady Du waved her hand casually: “Forget it, don’t I trust you?”
Jin Zhu’s face reddened with difficulty: “It’s not that… There’s no more cash.”
“What?” Lady Du felt her temples throbbing, her entire head seeming about to explode. “I remember bringing a lot of money when I came…”
Jin Zhu’s eyes filled with tears as she went to fetch the account book to show her: “You did bring quite a bit, my lady, but cash is heavy and hard to move. Most of it was in gold, jade, and silk. And on the day we arrived, you gave a large portion of the cash to the head of the Taoist temple… You need bird’s nest soup daily, and medicine, which includes expensive old ginseng… A while ago, we also bought that burial plot and the coffin and burial clothes. I’ve recorded everything here, see…”
Lady Du slammed the couch in a frenzy, shouting: “If there’s no cash left, don’t we still have silk? Go exchange it then, why all this fuss?”
Jin Zhu didn’t dare speak further. Trembling, she put away the account book, took some loose change, and went out to call two rough-looking servant women to help carry some silk out. She then stood by Lady Du’s side, concerned: “My lady, the medicine is about to take effect. You should lie down on the bed, don’t catch a chill here.”
Lady Du extended her hand, allowing Jin Zhu to help her inside.
Shortly after, Jin Zhu came out and quietly instructed the two servant women to load the goods onto a mule cart waiting outside the Taoist temple. After dismissing the woman, she got on the cart herself and said in a low voice, “Let’s go.”
The cart driver was a young man in his twenties. He drove the cart far away before speaking: “When will you be able to leave her service?”
Jin Zhu replied coolly: “Brother, how could such a thing be easily accomplished? Besides, she still has plenty of money. If I left now, wouldn’t that benefit someone else?” She said viciously: “The old hypocrite talks sweetly about setting me free, but she’s always been the type to hold onto people’s weaknesses. Unless she dies, she won’t let go.”
The young man was silent for a moment, then said softly: “Let it be. Our family has enough money now. Don’t stay there and suffer. If she’s going to die, let her die soon. After she’s gone, I’ll find another way to redeem you.”
Jin Zhu said coldly: “Brother, you have such a compassionate heart. Don’t you remember when she beat our mother to death? I was given away as a servant from childhood, so I didn’t suffer much, but you… you even had to fight with pigs and dogs for food. And our sister, if it weren’t for mother’s death, how could she have lost her innocence and hanged herself?” She said sharply: “You may have forgotten, but I haven’t. I want her to suffer torment while alive, to taste the bitterness of not being able to eat or sleep, to die slowly and painfully from illness.”
The young man dared not speak anymore, only lowering his head further. Jin Zhu’s sharp fingernails scratched the fine silk beside her as she said lightly: “You’re foolish. If she were to die suddenly, how could I escape suspicion? Do you think you could escape? Let’s take it slowly. Take some of this silk back with you, don’t worry about the rest.”
The young man sighed softly, “Are you still going to that pharmacy?”
Jin Zhu chuckled: “Yes, of course.”
“Ah!” Lady Du, half asleep and half awake, suddenly shuddered and woke up in a cold sweat, her heart pounding. She called loudly for Jin Zhu, but only silence answered. It was a long while before she remembered that Jin Zhu had gone to buy things. She collapsed powerlessly onto the bed, not daring to close her eyes for a long time, fearing that once she did, she would recall the nightmare she had just had.
She had dreamed of that year when she had racked her brains trying to marry Jiang Zhong. Just when she was out of ideas, the Jiang family’s old madam fell ill. She happened to hear a story from a previous dynasty about using human flesh as medicine, which gave her an idea. She bribed the imperial physician to make the old madam’s condition fluctuate, then cut flesh from her arm to use as medicine for the old madam. Sure enough, she succeeded in gaining Jiang Zhong’s favor, defeating Wang Ayou in one fell swoop and marrying into the Jiang family.
In the dream, she was proud and happy, sharing a candlelit night with Jiang Zhong in her bridal chamber. Suddenly, she saw Jiang Changzhong, covered in blood, crying and calling for his mother, saying he was in pain. Then she saw the white-haired old madam looking at her coldly, saying, “Du Shi, your day has come too…” Then she saw a bloody, shapeless mass of flesh crawling to grab her foot, calling her grandmother. There was also the emaciated Lin Yiniang, calling her to come and play, and Bai Xiang surrounding her, helping her with makeup and dressing.
She never used to have these dreams, but recently they had been entering her sleep more and more frequently. But never had they all come together like this. She held her head, gasping for breath, struggling to get up. She stumbled to the door, ignoring the rough servant women who came at the sound and staggered into the courtyard. She stood in the sun for a long while before she could catch her breath, feeling warmth gradually return to her body.
She had never believed in ghosts and spirits; otherwise, all the evil people in this world would have died out long ago. For instance, the Emperor’s uncle should have been the first to die, but wasn’t he still living a life of luxury with beautiful women in his arms? But now… She looked back at her room hidden in the shadows and found herself unwilling to return.
But where else could she go? She had long since lost her home, her support. Others still had something to look forward to, but she had nothing left. That day when Jiang Zhong came to find her, questioning her about the past, she told him everything without hesitation. He looked as if he wanted to strangle her, but she wasn’t afraid at all, because she knew he wouldn’t dare. But the moment he turned and walked out, she felt all strength leave her body, all hope and thoughts gone.
If life could start over, she would never want to know this man called Jiang Zhong again. She shouldn’t have lived such a life; she should have been cherished and treasured in someone’s palm.
She laughed softly. Where in this world could one find medicine for regret?