The man heard the sound and immediately stirred.

“My apologies for the delay today.” Qun Qing dragged him to the low window and opened it a crack. She knew that being hidden in such a cramped, dark place was unbearable even for ordinary people.

“I must take liberties.”

“…I haven’t been waiting long.” The man replied hoarsely. Feeling her lift the back of his robe, he immediately shut his mouth, his ears turning bright red.

Su Run, a Palace Academy instructor who had just come of age, still spoke with traces of a southern accent. When the cloth stuck to his wounds during the dressing change, he gritted his teeth in pain but made no sound.

Qun Qing focused solely on examining the wounds. Honestly, beaten to this state—a bloody mess—she couldn’t distinguish one part from another. Moreover, she kept her attention divided, listening for sounds outside the door, leaving her with no mental energy for other thoughts.

The deepest wound on Su Run’s back had stopped bleeding and showed no signs of infection. Qun Qing sprinkled medicinal powder on it and wrapped his buttocks and back with clean cloth. Over these past days, the frequency of dressing changes had gradually decreased. From here on, as long as he recuperated properly, his life would no longer be in danger.

Managing this much should be enough.

Qun Qing thought.

Her medical skills were shallow to begin with—she couldn’t cure, only ensure survival, just as she treated her own wounds.

Su Run didn’t know what she was thinking. With her silent, his face grew hotter and hotter. Breaking the silence, he asked: “Um, miss, those people… did they go to my quarters to see if I was dead?”

After all, these were people and events from three years ago. Qun Qing thought for a long while before retrieving some memories: “Yes. Someone comes daily to deliver food. I placed slop water in your quarters. They found the smell offensive and didn’t enter the room, so no one should have discovered your absence.”

“Thank you.” Su Run said very softly, then gave a dark, cold laugh. “Those people probably think in a few days they can collect my corpse.”

He turned his head with difficulty. With injuries on his waist and buttocks, he could only lie prone and couldn’t see Qun Qing’s features clearly—only sense her breath and warmth. Today her hair was surprisingly loose, falling strand by strand.

Qun Qing dissolved the medicine in a bowl and fed it to him. Su Run drank from her hands, those willow-like strands continuously brushing against his cheeks.

He heard Qun Qing say: “After you finish this, leave.”

Su Run choked.

“This medicine is used for battlefield injuries. After taking it, you’ll temporarily feel no pain. At midday when the palace paths are empty, walk back to where you should be on your own. After that, we part ways.” Qun Qing looked at him, speaking as dispassionately as possible. “The day before yesterday when I changed your dressing, Fennel overheard. Today it’s her; next time it will be me. You staying here is trouble and will implicate me.”

The palace maid called Fennel had already been dragged back to the Palace Service Bureau. Her intermittent cries and pleas for mercy reached both their ears.

In the first year of the Sheng Lin era, the entire inner court was conducting strict investigations of spies.

“I know.” Su Run’s face flushed instantly. “I’m sorry. I never planned to implicate you, miss. I…” By the end, he was extremely ashamed.

Qun Qing made a sound of acknowledgment and held back from responding further.

In her previous life, her friendship with Su Run had begun with this life-saving favor.

That day, a sedan chair was carried into the Palace Service Bureau, containing the new Palace Academy instructor, reportedly a demoted official from elsewhere. As for why he was being carried—it was because he had just been subjected to caning and couldn’t walk.

Ordinary punished officials would receive medicine and rest quietly for a few days after beating, but Su Run’s situation was particularly different:

The herbal medicine they applied to him was mixed with sand and lime, causing his wounds to worsen. Su Run felt himself growing weaker and weaker. Clinging to a thread of life, he stubbornly crawled out seeking help and happened to crawl outside the North Warehouse.

Traveling at night, Qun Qing saw a person collapsed unconscious in the bamboo grove, his clothing stained with blood, the fish tally at his waist gleaming in the moonlight—a ninth-rank palace official.

After a moment’s hesitation, she took an enormous risk and dragged him back, hiding him in a dark corner of the North Warehouse. She expended great effort cleaning his wounds, changing dressings, and feeding him, saving Su Run’s life.

The two had met by chance. Apart from changing dressings, they had little other interaction. When he could walk again, unwilling to trouble her, he left on his own.

She saw Su Run again at Palace Service Bureau classes, where he had recovered and was teaching palace maids to paint plum blossoms and bamboo. Qun Qing had little opportunity to study calligraphy and painting in her youth. Finally encountering someone with real knowledge, she naturally listened with particular attention.

Only when she stared unblinkingly at Su Run, the instructor on the platform would always avoid her gaze, looking at the leaves outside the window instead.

Qun Qing truly hadn’t thought much of it.

After she entered the Six Bureaus, Su Run continued as a humble Palace Academy instructor, maintaining correspondence with her—urging her to add clothing when it was cold, sending an umbrella when it rained. He was indeed somewhat indecisive, but never intrusively bothersome. Whenever she needed to trouble him, he was always willing to help cover for her, so Qun Qing never severed this friendship.

Until Lu Huating pointed it out did Qun Qing suddenly realize—Su Run had probably long ago guessed her identity and purpose, which was why he risked himself to help her, gambling everything he had to honor this friendship.

Only in Qun Qing’s view, Su Run had been implicated by her for nothing.

If he hadn’t befriended her, if he hadn’t helped her, he wouldn’t have needed to offend Lu Huating, and wouldn’t have lost both his career and life to Lu Huating’s hands.

Moreover, since she had now given up entirely, there was even less reason to drag Su Run into the game.

Emotional debts were hard to repay—better not to become friends in the first place.

Just now, Qun Qing had issued her order to leave. Su Run had no face to remain and tried several times to push himself up. Cold sweat rolled down as Qun Qing pressed him down: “Don’t rush. It hasn’t taken effect yet.”

Su Run looked at her hand resting on his sleeve and finally gathered his courage: “Could you leave your name, miss? If not for your care, I would likely have died exposed in the wilderness. In the future when I recover, I’ll repay you even if I must become grass or wear a ring.”

Qun Qing asked: “What’s your name?”

Su Run divulged without hesitation: “Surname Su, given name Run, courtesy name Yujie. And you, miss?”

“Qun Qing.” Without waiting for his response, Qun Qing said, “I don’t befriend people. I only make transactions.”

Su Run froze: “Transactions?”

Qun Qing said: “The life-saving favor—you don’t need to repay it. That day I only saved you because I saw your fish tally. You’re a palace official and might be useful to me. But now you’re not.”

Such blunt honesty made Su Run furrow his brow slightly, not knowing what had happened. The look in his eyes held surprise mixed with several parts of pity.

Qun Qing had already moved on: “By the way, I never asked you—whom did you offend to be treated this way?”

Caning typically targeted the buttocks and thighs, but Su Run’s injuries were positioned unusually high—beating the spine could easily cripple someone. The applied medicine was mixed with filth, and afterward they’d thrown him into the Palace Service Bureau to live or die on his own. The malicious actions resembled deliberate revenge.

“It’s no harm telling you, miss.” Su Run sighed. “It’s the new Supervising Secretary, Meng Guanlou.”

“Meng Guanlou—is he Minister Meng’s eldest son?” Qun Qing was somewhat surprised.

Meng Guangshen had originally been Prince Li Xuan’s teacher and Emperor Chenming’s strategist. After the current emperor ascended the throne, he was appointed minister and had always conducted himself with low-key discretion in private. His eldest son also had a reputation for talent. She hadn’t expected him to be so domineering—truly very different from his father.

She continued questioning Su Run: “What was your previous position? Why did you offend him?”

“I was a provincial tribute scholar from Jiangxi in the late years of the Huang Emperor’s reign, and passed into the Imperial Academy last year. This year’s civil examinations were desperately short-staffed, so they had me serve as an examiner. While reviewing papers, I didn’t know Meng Guanlou was Minister Meng’s son and said… things I shouldn’t have said.”

Su Run’s expression darkened, seeming disheartened. After some hesitation, he mumbled it out: “I said his answer sheet looked like someone had taken the test for him—the handwriting in the initial and reexaminations was slightly different.”

In a moment of impetuousness, he’d made the matter public. The next day, the Personnel Ministry summoned Meng Guanlou and had him compose a policy essay on the spot, proving that Meng Guanlou was indeed supremely talented and had absolutely no need for a substitute test-taker.

Meng Guanlou wrote fluently and threw the ink brush in his face, his expression terrifyingly dark. Then Su Run was dragged out on charges of dereliction of duty.

“I never imagined he’d hold such a grudge! I wronged him once, and he wants my life in revenge.” Su Run said.

“You’re certain those two examination papers weren’t written by the same person?” Qun Qing asked.

“I specialized in calligraphy and painting—I’m very accurate at identifying handwriting. They absolutely weren’t written by the same person.”

“If he could answer himself, why risk having someone take the test for him? This is strange indeed. Could Meng Guanlou be so arrogant as to disregard examination regulations?” Or perhaps something had happened on the day of the reexamination that prevented him from appearing in person, forcing him to use a substitute.

Warning Su Run so severely precisely indicated something shameful within that he didn’t want anyone investigating further.

However, Qun Qing didn’t voice this.

Meng Guanlou’s weakness was of no use to her.

—Actually, it might not be completely useless.

Meng Guanlou was Minister Meng’s son, and Minister Meng was the Crown Prince’s teacher, naturally supporting the Crown Prince. Prince Yan’s military achievements were mounting, his prominence gradually increasing, so Minister Meng acted to suppress him, fearing he would threaten the Crown Prince’s position.

Lu Huating wanted to help Prince Yan ascend to power, so he had to contend with Minister Meng and Meng Guanlou—the two sides were engaged in fierce secret battles.

Qun Qing stared at Su Run until he swallowed. Qun Qing spoke: “I’ll point you toward a clear path. Aren’t you afraid those people will come seeking revenge again? Go to Prince Yan’s mansion and find Chief Clerk Lu. Tell him what you just told me about Meng Guanlou’s substitute test-taker. He’ll definitely find a way to protect your life, give you the best wound medicine, and if you’re lucky, might even help you take revenge.”

“Chief… Clerk, Chief Clerk Lu?” Su Run’s expression was dubious as he repeated the name several times.

Qun Qing was somewhat surprised, then suddenly realized: The current Lu Huating was still just an unnamed chief clerk in Prince Yan’s mansion.

Besides her, probably no one would believe this person would become so mad in the future, capable of overturning the entire heaven and earth of Great Chen.

She felt somewhat guilty: “Remember—you can’t say you know me.”

Su Run said: “You and he…”

“Don’t know each other. Never met.” Qun Qing said. “But I don’t want him to know I exist.”

Su Run looked at her, more doubt growing in his eyes.

Qun Qing thought he was hesitating from fear and comforted him: “I’ve heard Chief Clerk Lu is extremely goal-oriented and won’t harm someone like you who has no conflict with his interests. Borrowing his influence should be fine.”

Su Run said: “I trust you, miss. But to seek refuge with Chief Clerk Lu—I can neither mention your name nor have any credentials. I fear Prince Yan’s mansion is a high-walled compound with layer upon layer of protocol—they won’t let me in. When they threw me here, I had nothing on me…”

Qun Qing understood his meaning. She found some items to put in a basket and handed them to Su Run. Jewelry and precious pastries occasionally bestowed by nobles when she was on duty—she’d saved everything in a cabinet precisely for moments like this: “Take these. Use them to smooth things over with Prince Yan’s guards. You must see Chief Clerk Lu.”

“This is all your worldly possessions, isn’t it? We barely know each other—why are you so good to me?” Su Run clutched the basket, his expression gloomy, dejection spreading across his brow. “I’m just a lowly palace official who can’t even protect my own life…”

Qun Qing thought of herself, thought of Su Run’s fate in her previous life. No matter what, she owed Su Run a debt. If they couldn’t be friends, she’d repay him with a career.

She forcefully stuffed the basket into his arms: “The new dynasty has just been established—everything awaits revival. Palace struggles are fierce and brutal. Once you have thoughts of retreat, the path ahead only narrows further. You don’t want to settle accounts with that Meng Guanlou, but when he thinks of you later, he won’t necessarily spare you.”

“Su Run, you’ve served as an Imperial Academy instructor. At the Imperial Academy, you could decide candidates’ employment. Here, you can’t even decide your own life or death. If you want to live more freely, fight for it yourself.” Qun Qing deliberately pushed him, glancing at the basket. “Naturally, if you think waiting for death in the Palace Service Bureau is comfortable, pretend I said nothing and take the pastries back to eat yourself.”

Outside the window, the palace path was empty. Qun Qing helped him up, about to send him out, when Su Run grabbed her sleeve: “What kind of person are you really, miss?”

Qun Qing’s face turned cold: “If I let you know, could you survive?”

Su Run’s face paled in fright. Outside, knocking suddenly sounded. Both froze in place.

Qun Qing put her finger to her lips, then pointed to the window, indicating he should act according to circumstances. Then she went out and locked the warehouse door behind her.

Opening the door, she found Matron Zhang standing outside.

Matron Zhang pointed at her neck, eyes narrowing into crescents with her smile. “Your rash cleared up at just the right time! Come with me quickly—you can still make it!”

“Make what?” Qun Qing stood dumbfounded. Shouldn’t the palace maid selection have already ended?

Matron Zhang laughed: “Talk about good luck! That Baoshu somehow offended Princess Bao’an. The Princess knocked her embroidered piece to the floor and had the Princess Consort of Yan throw her out. The Princess Consort is meticulous—she checked the registry one by one and discovered you were missing. Well, I explained the whole story—aren’t you happy? Why aren’t you smiling?”

Qun Qing’s smile looked terrible.

“Princess Bao’an wants you to come immediately. She doesn’t mind that you had a rash, and the Princess Consort of Yan wants to meet you too.” Matron Zhang said.

A light clang came from inside the North Warehouse. Matron Zhang raised her eyebrows suspiciously and rolled up her sleeves: “Rats in the warehouse again? Let me take a look.”

Qun Qing grabbed her firmly: “Matron, business is more important. Help me arrange my hair. Let’s go now.”

Moments later, Qun Qing was dragged by Matron Zhang onto the palace path.

“Was there something special about your embroidered piece?” On the road, Matron Zhang eyed her sideways with suspicion. “You’re not at all surprised about how Baoshu angered the Princess.”

Qun Qing said: “I still can’t hide anything from you, Matron. Do you know why I re-embroidered a second piece? Silk-tree flowers symbolize intimate relations between men and women. When the Chu Kingdom fell, Princess Bao’an lost her chastity to Prince Yan. Troubled by rumors, she didn’t dare leave her residence—she even had the two silk-tree trees at the palace gate cut down. I was afraid of touching the Princess’s sore spot.”

Memories slowly returned: Back then, thinking of this, fearing it would pain Yang Fu, she’d gotten up in the middle of the night to work by lamplight on new embroidery.

Stitch by stitch, she’d embroidered future hopes—hoping her arrival could protect Yang Fu, so she would never again suffer the pain of a ruined nation and broken family…

“Lucky your memory is good—I nearly forgot.” Matron Zhang covered her mouth and laughed slyly. “For Baoshu to steal someone else’s work—heaven has eyes. She deserves this!”

“But how did you know Baoshu would choose the silk-tree embroidery?” Matron Zhang still couldn’t figure it out. “What if she’d taken your orchid piece instead—wouldn’t that have worked out for her?”

Qun Qing didn’t answer, only smiled, dark currents surging in her eyes.

The diagonal stitch technique on that embroidered piece was her own creation—in the entire palace, only Qun Qing could embroider it. Back in the Chu Kingdom palace, only Princess Bao’an wore uniquely embroidered skirts, receiving everyone’s envious admiration—those were Princess Bao’an’s most carefree youthful days.

If Yang Fu saw her embroidered piece in Baoshu’s hands but didn’t see her, the sight would stir painful memories and she would only scold Baoshu more harshly.

No one could take advantage of her when she was in a bad mood.