Lu Huating lowered his lashes. Under the moonlight, Qun Qing’s hands appeared slender and pale, each finger delicate and elegant. Looking further up at her cold, innocent expression, one could hardly imagine these were hands capable of killing—hands that had just been removed from Li Pan’s neck.
At this thought, a trace of cold laughter escaped his lips. He merely withdrew a plain handkerchief from his sleeve and draped it over her hand. “Wipe them off?”
Qun Qing said nothing but wiped her hands. Lu Huating turned his head. “Wen Su.”
Wen Su declined, saying: “It’s too dark, this subordinate cannot see clearly. Besides, there’s no ink or brush. How about I go back first to fetch some…”
“No need for ink or brush.” Lu Huating stopped her, turned to part the bushes, and plucked several bellflowers. Smiling, he said to Qun Qing, “Miss Qing, spread your hand open.”
Bellflowers were placed between Qun Qing’s fingers. Lu Huating grasped her knuckles through the flowers. “Don’t move.”
His fingertips gradually applied more pressure. As pain struck, Qun Qing realized this person was settling personal scores and deliberately showed no reaction as she watched him.
Lu Huating likewise focused intently on her eyes.
Quite able to endure.
Only when those cool petals between her fingers had been crushed by him into juice did he finally release his grip. Qun Qing let out a breath and brushed away the flower petals. Lu Huating glanced at his own fingers, which were also stained with purple liquid.
This person loved cleanliness and neatness, so he simply curled his jade-white hand into his sleeve.
Qun Qing noticed this and deliberately said, “Does the Chief Administrator need a handkerchief?”
“The lady may keep the handkerchief. The Sage is about to emerge, so I must leave.” Lu Huating glanced at Qun Qing, then departed with Wen Su.
Qun Qing reminded him in a low voice: “At the investiture ceremony, tell Prince Yan to be careful.”
Lu Huating’s steps paused for a moment before he disappeared into the night.
As for Li Pan, after returning to his sleeping chambers, he poured the tea from his jade cup into a flower pot. “Tell Minister Meng that even Consort Chen De has been dredged up. This prince sees that Prince Yan’s mansion wants to start from the incident back then. Lu Huating refuses a toast only to be forced to drink a forfeit—think about what to do.”
The hidden guard at his side accepted the order and left.
Li Pan touched his temple again, frowning from the stabbing pain. The pain throughout his body reminded him that he had very likely suffered a hidden loss at the hands of a female Daoist. But as for specific details, he could remember nothing—truly strange.
Li Pan angrily struck his own head twice. Even when his usually favored concubine came in to console him, he berated her and drove her out. If before this Li Pan had still harbored some interest in the female Daoist, from now on it had turned to deep loathing.
He took out a razor and went to the mansion stables. Before long, sounds that made one’s scalp tingle rang out.
Several bandit prisoners captured earlier were confined there.
Technically, prisoners should be held in the Ministry of Justice, but since this was Li Pan’s own merit, he had kept a few for his own amusement. Li Xuan pretended not to know. Li Pan had some rather peculiar quirks—when his temper flared, the entire Prince Zhao’s mansion would tremble with fear, and no one dared to offer counsel.
In the latter half of the night, the mansion guards of Prince Zhao’s mansion rolled up two bandit corpses in rush mats and quietly carried them out of the palace for burial.
Juan Su and Kuang Su dug until nearly dawn before finally excavating the bodies—
Because the Sage had issued an order, Consort Chen De moved back to Changqing Palace that very day and was assigned a group of palace servants to attend to her.
Upon receiving the news, Consort Lü no longer dared to slight Consort Chen De. Qun Qing said, “This subject wishes to help Your Ladyship send a belated invitation to the investiture ceremony to Changqing Palace, along with some nutritional supplements. Should the Sage go to visit Consort Chen De, he would also see Your Ladyship’s thoughtfulness.”
Consort Lü was in the midst of a headache when she heard this and was instantly revived. She immediately summoned Yin Zi and had Qun Qing deliver the invitation to Changqing Palace.
One of the greatest advantages of being a female official was no longer having to carry wooden trays in one’s hands.
In weather that could freeze dripping water into ice, Qun Qing wrapped her cloak tightly around herself, both hands tucked into her sleeves. She observed outside the Hall of Two Principles where a group of young eunuchs were scrubbing the palace gates. Throngs of palace maids holding wooden trays were collecting winter court robes from the Bureau of Imperial Wardrobe to deliver to the palaces of various noble ladies. Upon seeing Qun Qing, they all curtsied in greeting, and Qun Qing nodded in acknowledgment.
All the noble ladies throughout the palace were preparing to attend the investiture ceremony—only Changqing Palace remained perfectly calm.
Qun Qing came to Changqing Palace to deliver the invitation, intending to take the opportunity to observe Consort Chen De’s condition. If she was truly feigning madness, then Qun Qing could extract information about her mother sooner.
Consort Chen De sat at the edge of the bed platform, still in her simple attire with a single topknot and Daoist robes. Though she was not afraid of people, she also did not speak, like a withered tree stump.
“Consort De, this subject is Qun,典仪 (典仪:典仪 – Dianyi, ceremonial official) from the Bureau of Palace Attendants, here to deliver supplements on behalf of Consort Lü.”
Consort Chen De showed no reaction whatsoever.
No matter how many times Qun Qing passed before her eyes, placing down gifts and supplements one by one, Consort Chen De’s eyelids remained lowered, seemingly completely unconcerned whether she was the person who had posed as a female Daoist striking the chime yesterday.
Could Consort Chen De truly be mad, and she had overthought things?
Qun Qing felt somewhat disappointed, but with Yin Zi following her, it was inconvenient to make any other moves.
Her fingers curled slightly in her sleeves. She could only depart, and at the doorway ran head-on into a palace maid carrying a water bucket who served as a wardrobe attendant. The other party paid no heed to the splashing water, instead exclaiming: “Miss Qing!”
Qun Qing studied this tender face carefully. The palace maid’s expression was excited, unable to conceal a slight bashfulness. “This servant is Song Chun! Does the lady not remember me?”
“On the day of the Six Bureaus selection, you and I stood in the same line. At that time you were still a head palace maid. You told me not to step forward to question them, but I insisted on stepping forward, and as a result my examination token was burned by Director Gu…”
Before she finished speaking, Qun Qing remembered the incident.
She recalled that backward glance upon entering, that solitary figure standing in the courtyard. An indescribable feeling filled her heart. “It’s you. You’re Consort Chen De’s wardrobe attendant—why are you still doing menial labor?”
Seeing Song Chun struggling to pour the bucket of water into the water vat, Qun Qing stepped forward to help.
Song Chun rubbed her frozen red fingers and smiled. “After Consort De moved out, this servant was only then assigned to Changqing Palace to guard the empty palace. In name I’m a wardrobe attendant, but all day long I can only do menial work. People in the palace also bully Changqing Palace. I thought I still had good embroidery skills, but who knew I was stupid and ruined my opportunity.”
As she spoke, she gazed at Qun Qing with envy. “How wonderful—the lady is already a palace official now.”
Song Chun’s current timid appearance was entirely different from the little lady who had argued her case like a firecracker that day.
Qun Qing couldn’t help but ask her: “Do you still do needlework? Do you still want to take the palace official examination?”
Song Chun withdrew an embroidered piece from her bosom and handed it to Qun Qing, but shook her head like a rattle-drum. “This servant no longer dreams. Only someone like elder sister who knows when to advance and retreat, who follows the rules, can become a palace official.”
Qun Qing stroked that smooth, densely stitched embroidery. That Song Chun’s hands, suffering from chilblains, could produce such craftsmanship was as remarkable as the peony amid snow depicted on the embroidered piece.
Ignoring Song Chun’s refusals, Qun Qing tucked the hand warmer she had hidden in her sleeve into Song Chun’s sleeve, merely looking at her and saying: “Song Chun, you are not stupid, and I am not any more clever than you.”
“Following those palace rules holds no particular merit in my heart. Nor did I become a palace official because I followed the rules. I bow my head because I am taking root. People always have times of weakness. As long as one doesn’t forget what one wishes to do in one’s heart, one day one will be able to grasp the sword and write the rules into what they ought to be. That Director Gu—His Highness the Crown Prince has already removed her from office. If you have the will, take the examination again next year. No one will obstruct you anymore. And if there still is someone, then try again the year after.”
Song Chun’s eyes widened. She felt that the lady before her had pitch-black eyes reflecting a tenacious spirit, unlike any other lady she had ever seen. Her chest felt sour and tight. “My lady, can my embroidery skills truly gain entry to the Bureau of Imperial Wardrobe?”
Qun Qing said, “If you have questions, you may come to Caihua Palace to consult me.”
Yin Zi stood with arms crossed, waiting with extreme impatience. She paid no attention whatsoever to what was happening behind her—inside the inner hall, Consort Chen De stood by the window listening to the two women’s words, her eyes turning toward Qun Qing.