Muyu took the item and retreated in trepidation. The person seated in the main seat, displeased, set his wine cup down on the table with a “clunk.”
“What did you say?”
Wen Guzhi gave a shiver, turning with a smile to bow: “Nothing, Third Young Master must have misheard.”
Sneering, Li Jingyun stroked the rim of his cup nonchalantly: “If you have the spare time for such idle chatter, you’d do better to visit the Central Palace more often—I hear the Empress has been plagued by frequent illness and misfortune lately.”
Mentioning this, Wen Guzhi sat down beside him and said in a low voice: “The Central Palace has her own trusted imperial physician, what use would there be for me to interfere? Besides, from what I hear, the Seventh Prince likely won’t survive—only a fool would try to curry favor at a time like this.”
The Seventh Prince was born of the Empress, having just turned five, and had been ill since the beginning of the year, dragging on until autumn, now beyond saving. The Central Palace had only this one legitimate son, and now she was running to the imperial study three times a day to file complaints, saying someone in the harem wanted to harm the legitimate heir.
Taking a sip of wine, Li Jingyun didn’t think much of it: “His Majesty won’t listen.”
These disputes over legitimate and illegitimate heirs in the palace—His Majesty must be sick of them by now. Before him, right and wrong mattered little; it was all about who he favored. Compared to the sickly, young Seventh Prince, the Crown Prince, who had accumulated far more merit and stayed constantly by the emperor’s side, was obviously more favored.
“That’s what’s said.” Wen Guzhi said. “But our Crown Prince has truly had a run of bad luck lately, misfortunes piling up together. The imperial guard tally was already handed over, and yesterday his subordinate from the Right Guard rode recklessly through Luohua Street and was caught red-handed by the patrol battalion. The Crown Prince wanted to protect his own, but several old ministers of the cabinet had a word with His Majesty about it. Though there was no explicit reprimand, His Majesty scolded him too for poor discipline over his men—harsh words, and the Crown Prince was none too pleased about it.”
Someone praised and pampered since childhood—how could he withstand scolding? What’s more, those under the Eastern Palace had grown accustomed to abusing their power, and mistakes had never been few; before, no one dared call them out on it, but now that the Fifth Prince had emerged, there were bound to be those seeking retaliation.
But that such a small matter could reach the emperor’s ears directly—Li Jingyun curled his lip, thinking that group truly shouldn’t be underestimated.
Still, however much the Crown Prince got reprimanded, he remained the legitimate heir of this Great Liang. To think a small matter like this could shake his position was rather far-fetched.
If it had been before, Li Jingyun might have lent a hand, but now, with Zhou Heshuo clearly excluding him as well, he no longer bothered seeking out work to do—content just to listen in on the excitement.
Turning to look out the window, his face grew somber as if thinking of someone, and he gave a soft snort through his nose.
The capital in autumn was only truly lively at the beginning of the ninth month—by custom, there was a day of rest when the palace’s side gate would open, and some palace servants who had received special favor would be allowed out to walk about.
Luohua Street bustled with people coming and going, those individuals blending into the crowd and quickly scattering, indistinguishable from ordinary folk.
Xiao Li was an eunuch of the Central Palace, and unlike others, he was the one leading people out to handle matters. He didn’t pick quiet, elegant places to rest, but instead headed for the largest teahouse on Luohua Street.
Teahouses were places crowded with all sorts of people from every walk of life—if one was lucky, one might overhear something useful.
He’d walked through the door on a whim, not expecting today’s luck to actually be quite good. The moment he entered, he heard someone say: “Speaking of ruthlessness, who could be more ruthless than that one? Poisoning people, cutting them down in the dead of night—what wouldn’t they do?”
His ears perking up, Xiao Li glanced over inconspicuously.
At a small table in the corner sat two women. The one speaking had bitter brows and reddened eyes, wearing a half-worn set of clothes, no hairpins in her hair at all, her belly slightly rounded. The one listening looked startled, cautiously glancing left and right before lowering her voice: “You shouldn’t talk so recklessly.”
Ordering a pot of tea, Xiao Li quite naturally sat down at the empty table beside them, took out several strips of rattan, and began weaving a birdcage.
The two women eyed him warily, but seeing he was merely someone weaving a birdcage, turned back to continue: “What’s reckless about it? If it weren’t for that servant from the Eastern Palace, would I have ended up like this today?”
Huayue’s face was full of melancholy, pressing her handkerchief to the corner of her eye, choking out: “If Madam Zhuang were still alive, why would I have been driven out of the General’s residence?”
Shuang Jiang sighed with feeling: “You shouldn’t keep dwelling on it—it was just a sparrow-turned-phoenix affair to begin with, turning back into a sparrow isn’t really a loss, isn’t it? At least you got some silver out of it, didn’t you?”
“But look at me, I only have twenty taels left. That glorious Grand Protector didn’t even bother to take care of things, and I’m still carrying his child in my belly.” Huayue wept softly. “Madam Zhuang was the one protecting me—if she hadn’t been killed by that servant from the Eastern Palace, I’d still be drinking bird’s nest porridge at the General’s residence right now.”
“Why would a servant from the Eastern Palace have a quarrel with the Madam?” Shuang Jiang frowned. “Who would believe such a thing if you told them?”
“Exactly because no one would believe it—otherwise how could they get away with it so freely?” Huayue said with some frustration, striking her with her small handkerchief, deeply aggrieved. “But I know for certain—that servant from the Eastern Palace named Desheng used Zhefei paste to kill Madam Zhuang slowly, and the servant who helped him do it was beaten to death, so no one can accuse him of anything now.”
Saying this, she lowered her head and began to cry.
Xiao Li listened quietly, roughly guessing the identities of these two. He’d heard before that the Grand Protector had married someone of servant birth, but hadn’t expected there to be so much more behind it—no wonder the Grand Protector was no longer close with the Eastern Palace now.
This madam appeared to have fallen from favor, crying with such heartbreak that it drew the attention of the other tea patrons around, who kept turning to look. The little maid beside her seemed somewhat embarrassed, hurrying to help her up and out.
After a moment’s thought, Xiao Li followed after them.
The carriage traveled all the way back to the small courtyard. Huayue got out and stood at the gate for a moment before stepping inside.
Xiao Li surveyed the surroundings, memorized the location, and went back to report.
The Seventh Prince was critically ill, and the Central Palace, hating Consort Yao to the bone, was trying every way to pin blame on her. Unable to find grounds within the palace, she turned to seeking them outside—she’d originally meant to gather other information, but hadn’t expected to stumble upon a weakness of the Eastern Palace instead.
A charge without evidence was useless in others’ hands, but in the Empress’s hands, it could be put to many uses.
Huayue waited calmly in the small courtyard. Shuang Jiang glanced at her belly, asking with some concern: “Isn’t this a bit risky?”
“If you want to borrow someone else’s knife to kill, you first have to willingly lend them the strength to do it.” Huayue smiled, stroking her belly. “Besides, it’s been behaving well lately, there shouldn’t be any major problems.”
About to say something but holding back, Shuang Jiang frowned.
Li Yun came back from outside, having collected the medicine dregs, and bowed toward the room as she passed the door: “Madam, it seems a guest has arrived outside.”
A guest at this hour? Huayue rose to go look, and there saw Su Miao standing by a carriage, hands on hips, brows furrowed in anger, looking like a ruffled bird.
“Sister-in-law.” Seeing her come out, Su Miao immediately ran to hide behind her, grabbing her shoulders and pointing toward the carriage. “Sister-in-law, save me.”
Was there anything in all the capital that Su Miao would actually fear? Huayue was quite puzzled, but looking up, she happened to see Shen Zhiluo lifting half the carriage curtain, glaring irritably behind her.
…So there really was something she feared.
Patting Su Miao’s hand, Huayue asked: “What’s going on?”
“This man is holding me captive.” Su Miao said aggrievedly. “Won’t let me go out on the streets, won’t let me out the door, and now that I finally got the chance to pass by this courtyard, he still won’t let me in to pay my respects to sister-in-law.”
“That is a bit excessive.” Huayue nodded, looking toward Shen Zhiluo.
“You have the nerve to say that.” Stepping down from the carriage, Shen Zhiluo sneered. “I don’t even know who it was who climbed over the wall last night and trampled the tiles on my roof, and the falling tiles smashed half a room’s worth of furnishings.”
“You even trampled through the roof?” Huayue sighed, looking at Su Miao.
Su Miao pouted: “That’s because he locked me in first—otherwise would I have walked on the roof?”
“Locking someone up isn’t quite right either.” Huayue looked at Shen Zhiluo.
Shen Zhiluo, displeased: “Owing money and refusing to pay it back, and then trying to leave—and you’re blaming me for locking her in?”
Suddenly understanding, Huayue asked: “Why do you owe money?”
Su Miao stamped her foot: “He said himself he’d give me a sword, and then once I’d drawn it from its sheath, he demanded payment—what kind of logic is that!”
Huayue understood at once, and turned to scold Shen Zhiluo further, but saw him lower his eyes and say: “Are you carrying weeds in your belly? Whichever way the wind blows, you sway right along with it.”
Huayue: “…”
She pressed a hand to her mouth to hold it shut, taking half a step back.
The two of them stood before her, bickering back and forth. Huayue listened for a good while and finally understood.
Su Miao wanted to leave, Shen Zhiluo wouldn’t let her, finding a thousand excuses to keep her there. Su Miao, still holding onto her pride, refused to back down, and so the two had reached a stalemate.
She suspected these two had come specifically to provoke her, the cold-courtyard’s abandoned wife.
“Well then, how about this.” She said. “The young miss doesn’t want to go back to the Shen residence, and Lord Shen doesn’t want the young miss to leave—so why don’t the two of you just move into this small courtyard together, best of both worlds.”
Su Miao froze, turning in disbelief: “Sister-in-law, what kind of terrible idea is this.”
“It’s your cousin’s guesthouse anyway.” Huayue smiled. “The two of you staying here is perfectly justified.”
“The two of us staying here.” Su Miao couldn’t believe it. “Then where would you stay?”
This small courtyard wasn’t large to begin with—only one main room, the rest being side rooms.
Huayue said with a smile: “It just so happens I won’t be able to stay here anymore. It’s not good to leave the guesthouse empty when servants come to deliver monthly allowances anyway, so you two staying here would actually help.”
Shen Zhiluo understood immediately where she would be going, and nodded right away: “That works.”
“What works about it, who agreed with you.” Su Miao glared at him, hurrying over to grab Huayue’s hand. “Why, sister-in-law? Where are you going? Have you given up on my cousin?”
“How could your cousin ever be given up by me?” Huayue laughed lightly. “He’s off in Qifeng Tower having the time of his life, plenty of beauties by his side—if anything, he’s the one who’s given up on me. But I’m not leaving either, I just have business to attend to for a couple of days, I’ll be back before long.”
Hearing the first half of the sentence, Su Miao’s heart gave a lurch. Her cousin had indeed been rather dissolute at Qifeng Tower lately, but she’d thought her sister-in-law wouldn’t know—she hadn’t expected her to be so clearly aware, let alone able to say it with a smile.
Uneasily, she clasped Huayue’s fingertips, murmuring in a low voice to defend him: “Actually, my cousin, he’s just acting on a whim, no one’s actually able to enter the household.”
Right, since he was still in mourning, of course no one could officially enter—but embracing them in his arms and whispering sweet nothings in bed, that sort of affection looked much the same regardless.
Huayue shook her head, not wanting to dwell on it, and simply said: “If you two are willing to help me out with this, come by tomorrow, and I’ll have the keys ready for you.”