There were three people in the room: A’Meng, A’Jiang, and Ruo Chan.

Lan Yue was Zheng Zhiyi’s household-born maid. After entering the palace, she was promoted to a second-rank clothing attendant and slept in the hall at night to serve Zheng Zhiyi, so she didn’t need to sleep in the servants’ quarters.

A bedding spot had been added on the floor near the door for Qun Qing.

Qun Qing fumbled in the dark to lift the quilt, only to touch a handful of wet coldness. She lit the lamp and saw clearly that overnight tea had been poured on the bedding. Looking at those three people, they all seemed to be sound asleep, with no one making a sound.

Qun Qing’s path through the palace in her youth had been too smooth. She had heard of the tactics palace maids used to band together and bully newcomers, but this was her first time experiencing it firsthand.

Seeing how well they slept, Qun Qing pushed the wet quilt aside, grabbed the quilt corner of the person beside her, and snatched her bedding. Sleeping next to her was Ruo Chan, whose eyes were closed with eyelashes trembling continuously.

Ruo Chan pretended to sleep. Even when the quilt was pulled away, she remained motionless in fear. Qun Qing suddenly noticed a red string tied around her wrist, with a peach wood talisman hanging from the string.

This was a female Daoist, what common folk called a Daoist nun.

Just how short of people was Great Chen, to even gather Daoist nuns under fifteen years old to serve as palace maids? In Chu, this would be an absurd matter.

Qun Qing paused, then covered Ruo Chan with the quilt again and reluctantly covered herself with an outer garment.

In the darkness, Ruo Chan suddenly grabbed her wrist.

Qun Qing started, then her hand was guided by Ruo Chan’s hand to move, bit by bit feeling a thin, long sewing needle stuck in her own bedding!

Ruo Chan’s hand withdrew. Qun Qing removed the needle. If Ruo Chan hadn’t warned her, with just one turn of her body, the needle would have pierced her skin. Thinking of this, the coldness of the needle spread from her fingertips to her heart.

The thin, icy needle was held between Qun Qing’s fingers as she played with it. She wasn’t afraid of this sharp thing—in childhood, her mother had always forced her to practice embroidery, and it had accompanied her for many years.

She hadn’t practiced martial arts for many days and wondered if she had lost her accuracy. Thinking this, Qun Qing looked at the needle in her hand, gathered some strength, and threw it into the darkness.

The teapot on the shelf exploded with a “bang.”

Fragments with cold water poured down, drenching A’Meng, who shrieked as she sat up, patting herself and looking at A’Jiang in alarm: “Why didn’t you close the window? The wind blew the teapot down and it shattered!”

A’Jiang said: “Was it me who didn’t close it or you who didn’t close it?”

“It must have been you who forgot to close it, aiyou, how unlucky…”

Both angry and frightened, they hurriedly picked up the fragments. Their clothes and bedding were soaked through—there would be no sleeping peacefully now. They had guilty consciences and felt it was strange, but looking past Ruo Chan, Qun Qing was lying properly, so far away, wrapped in her outer garment like a peaceful cocoon.

“How bizarre!” A’Meng grumbled. “My eyelid keeps twitching.”

Qun Qing had long since fallen asleep. With the two heavy burdens of restoring the kingdom and the Princess lifted from her heart, she hadn’t slept so soundly in many years.

The food at Lady Zheng’s palace was also delicious. Though Li Xuan didn’t favor this Lady, he never shortchanged her in terms of food. Cooked rice, fish, mutton, and fresh bamboo shoots were delivered daily. Chef Liu’s skills were as outstanding as rumored, able to prepare these ingredients in endless variations.

A’Meng and A’Jiang’s disdainful looks didn’t hinder Qun Qing’s recovering appetite: “As expected of someone from the Lateral Courts, as if she’s never eaten her fill.”

Using a wooden spoon to mix the rice evenly, letting each crystal grain absorb the rich braised fish broth, Qun Qing took another big bite.

Indeed, why hadn’t she discovered that rice tasted this good?

In the mirror, the young lady’s thin cheeks grew fuller day by day, taking on a rosy color that made her upturned eyes appear increasingly lively and spirited. She grew several inches taller, her hair became thicker, and her ailments of dizziness, weakness, and trembling hands when holding needles all disappeared. A thrown embroidery needle could push open a crack in a sealed window, freezing A’Meng awake in the middle of the night.

Only those who have experienced lingering illness understand what a blessing it is to possess a healthy body.

By the tenth day, Lu Huating hadn’t come looking for her, nor had anyone else. Qun Qing thought she had safely passed Su Run’s test. Her survival faced one less obstacle.

That evening, Qun Qing opened Fang Xie’s letter.

If she remembered correctly, the letter had been stuffed angrily into her bundle by Fang Xie a year ago when she insisted on entering the palace. In her previous life, she hadn’t opened it at all, because too many attachments would make it difficult to embrace death.

But in this life, she decided to read it.

She unfolded the letter paper. The entire letter was full of precautions. Fang Xie wrote: “Elder Sister, your life was saved by Master and me together. You owe us a life. You cannot dispose of it yourself. Please, preserve yourself at all costs.”

On the second page, he wrote: “Elder Sister, Master has gone south to search for traces of your mother. I’m watching over the medicine hall waiting for you. When you leave the palace, the medicine shop will be your home. We’ll gather herbs, make house calls, and heal the sick and save lives just like before, all right?”

Qun Qing abruptly folded the letter, because A’Meng was peering behind her. Caught in the act, A’Meng sneered: “What precious thing are you hiding so secretively?”

“Just a letter from home.” Qun Qing tidied her bundle and placed it at the foot of the bed. “So curious—is it because no one from home writes you letters?”

“You!” A’Meng, her sore spot struck, walked away resentfully.

Whether it was because Fang Xie’s letter mentioned her mother, that night Qun Qing rarely dreamed of her mother.

In the dream, Zhu Ying straightened boiled silk threads, winding them into skeins one by one. Qun Qing held her hands upright to help her mother hold the threads. Her mother asked her: The leg of lamb your father brought back from hunting—do you want it fire-roasted or stewed?

The flickering candlelight suddenly shattered, replaced by a panicked atmosphere—that was the day her mother suddenly disappeared, on the eve of the kingdom’s fall.

Father pounded the table forcefully: “I warned her long ago! Could I stop her? In such chaotic times, our whole family should stay together, but she never had you all in her heart.”

That was the tenth day after Prince Consort Ling Yunyi and Huaiyuan Military Commissioner Li Feng rescued the emperor. The palace was celebrating the retreat of the Northern Rong. The Emperor of Chu and Princess Imperial Changping could finally return to court safely under the protection of loyal ministers. No one expected another turn of events.

Having driven away the Northern Rong, the Li family and Princess Imperial Changping’s consort Ling Yunyi finally bared their fangs. On the return journey, they imprisoned the Emperor and Princess Imperial, taking the Son of Heaven south to force the abdication.

Ling Yunyi even heartlessly seized his and Princess Imperial’s eleven-year-old son Ling Yunnuo and established him as “Proxy Prince,” obviously intending to make him a puppet so the two families could control the court.

Shi Yuming said urgently: “Could it be that Princess Imperial Changping sent Mother a message? Mother was her clothing attendant after all, with deep feelings. Now that Princess Imperial is in trouble, Mother surely went to save her. Perhaps she’s already at Princess Imperial Changping’s side.”

“What use would she be?” Father choked out. “The rumors outside say that Princess Imperial has already passed away, and the Proxy Prince died with her!”

Shi Yuming and Qun Qing both stood frozen in place.

Princess Imperial Changping, Yang Yi, was an extremely resolute woman.

When the Emperor of Chu became absorbed in cultivating the Dao, she as Princess Imperial supported the court affairs; unable to accept her consort’s betrayal or let her young son become a puppet in others’ hands, she found an opportunity to ruthlessly set fire, burning the Proxy Prince to death in a woodshed, then leapt into the rolling river waters herself.

If the rumors were true and Princess Imperial Changping was dead, having also eliminated the trump card in the Li family’s hands, if Zhu Ying had gone to help her, she was surely in grave danger too.

Both Shi Yuming and Qun Qing were young. Having never experienced a military rebellion, Shi Yuming’s sword fell to the ground with a piercing sound.

Qun Qing sat dazed in the embroidery room without her mother. The embroidery room was empty. She saw the rabbit-and-peach hair ribbon her mother had embroidered halfway on the table for her sixteenth birthday, and her heart twisted painfully.

She couldn’t believe she had lost her mother, and even less could she accept that her mother hadn’t left them a single word.

So, amid Shi Yuming’s sobbing, Qun Qing began stubbornly searching through the embroidery room. This room was ordinarily used only by Zhu Ying and herself. Mother and daughter often spoke privately here, unknown to Father and Shi Yuming.

She turned the room upside down and actually found that ram’s-head sachet, and inside the sachet, what Zhu Ying had left for her.

—Poison pills of “Mutual Yearning.”

They were wrapped in snake scale glue and sealed in a bottle with water, looking like two golden cat’s-eye gems nestled together.

There was also a slip of paper with Zhu Ying’s hasty handwriting: “Liu Niang, my will is set. Don’t come looking for me. I leave you this protective medicine, the most lethal of poisons with no antidote. Cold Fragrance Pills can suppress it, yellow grass and rosemary can relieve it. The glue dissolves in metal; once exposed to water, poisonous gas escapes. Unless absolutely necessary, don’t take it out or use it.”

Below were the long list of poisoning symptoms she had told Lu Huating.

…

Half dreaming, half awake, Qun Qing suddenly felt movement beneath her leg.

Her leg pressed on the bundle, which contained this “most lethal of poisons.” According to her mother’s instructions, even just breaking the glue skin would be very dangerous.

So Qun Qing’s body tensed, instantly sitting bolt upright, startling the three people gathered around her so they fell back to the floor.

The half-opened bundle fell to the ground. Candlelight illuminated three panicked faces.

Tear tracks still showed on Qun Qing’s pale face, but her gaze was utterly cold.

A’Jiang was frightened by this expression and pushed the bundle away: “We didn’t do anything! Who cares about this junk? You keep this bundle with you day and night, guarding it so nervously. Sister Lan Yue ordered us to check whether you’d stolen something from the pavilion and hidden it in the bundle!” As she spoke, she hastily stuffed the letters back into the bundle.

Qun Qing checked that all her belongings were intact—clearly they had just opened it. She tied up the bundle without a word.

“Who are you making faces at?” A’Meng was indignant that she appeared weak before a mere palace maid from the Lateral Courts. Her two hands snatched the bundle. “Which of us hasn’t had our things searched? What makes you so special? Hand it over—we must search it today!”

Qun Qing suddenly grabbed her wrist bone and pushed her backward instead. A’Meng, caught completely off guard, hit the back of her head on the floor with a thud.

She was dazed for a moment, then scrambled up and shoved Qun Qing: “You dare hit me!”

“There are three of us—surely we can pin down one person? Come on.” A’Jiang also rushed over, calling for Ruo Chan to help press Qun Qing to the ground. “Ruo Chan, come help, or we’ll beat you to death later!”

Pressed against the icy floor, Qun Qing’s hands moved like swimming fish through the tangle of arms, grabbing one arm and twisting, forcefully pushing Ruo Chan onto A’Meng.

The two tumbled together. Qun Qing had already climbed up and, clutching A’Jiang’s neck, piled her on top of Ruo Chan. The candle stand was knocked over, the candle rolled down and fell into the bedding. The two couldn’t care about the pain and shrieked as they beat out the flames.

A’Meng still wanted to get up, but it was futile.

She lay among the disheveled bedding, eyes wide as she stared at Qun Qing.

What lay across her throat like a sharp sword was the iron rod normally used for closing windows. Everything had happened too quickly—who knew when it had ended up in Qun Qing’s hand.

Qun Qing usually didn’t particularly draw attention, but tonight, she radiated a killing aura. Her eyes in the darkness, set in an expressionless face, were as eerie as a specter.

Within two breaths, Qun Qing calmed somewhat.

She knew this was bad—she hadn’t controlled her emotions. This assassin’s skill shouldn’t appear in a palace maid.

“Do you know why, out of so many palace maids in the Lateral Courts, I was the one selected?” Qun Qing lowered her eyes and patted A’Meng’s cheek. “You—have you been to the Lateral Courts?”

A’Meng shook her head.

Good that she hadn’t.

“As the lowest slaves in this palace, everyone in the Lateral Courts has many grievances to vent. Those who couldn’t endure the bullying already bashed their heads and died long ago. Those who remain—how could they not have some skills? I grew up fighting in the Lateral Courts. Everyone there knows to keep far away. But you’re quite bold.”

Imagining that scene, A’Meng’s teeth immediately chattered.

A’Jiang still wanted to fight back, but after hearing this, fear appeared on her face too. Needless to say, Ruo Chan had long since started weeping.

“You follow Lan Yue’s rules and bully me. From today on, those rules are changed.” Qun Qing gripped A’Meng’s face. “If anyone dares offend again, try the Lateral Courts’ rules. Apologize to me!”

She raised her voice. The three immediately chorused their apologies.

Qun Qing moved the iron rod aside. A’Meng broke into a fit of frantic, distorted coughing. The iron rod left rust marks on her neck that looked purple and bruised, truly frightening the others.

Qun Qing leaned over, preparing to hang the iron rod back by the window, when she saw A’Jiang crawling at extreme speed to lie down in the sleeping spot the iron rod was pointing at, pulling up her quilt and looking obediently at Qun Qing. Seeing this, A’Meng also lay down stiffly beside her.

“…” Qun Qing weighed it and suddenly felt this iron rod was quite handy, so she placed it beside her own bed.

Qun Qing pulled up her quilt and lay down. The three observed her with bated breath. Seeing no unusual movement for a good while, they dared close their eyes.

The night was exceptionally quiet.

Quiet sobbing arose, breaking this quietness—Ruo Chan’s faint weeping.

Qun Qing couldn’t help opening her eyes: “What’s wrong with you now?”

Under the lamplight, Ruo Chan held up a sleeved robe: “Just now… you… you threw me onto the candle stand. The Empress’s gift to the Lady, this sleeved robe, got burned through. I’d been mending it for five days. The thread’s run out. Tomorrow the Lady surely won’t spare me.”

That gold-cloud-colored wide-sleeved robe was one of Zheng Zhiyi’s most beloved everyday garments. The back was embroidered with a peacock in gold thread. The peacock’s tail feathers had come unthreaded, so she specially requested a length of gold thread from the Palace Clothing Bureau and gave it to the maids to re-embroider. Everyone knew how much Zheng Zhiyi treasured it.

Qun Qing said: “Let me see.”

Ruo Chan knew the final blame would surely fall on her alone, but still held onto a thread of hope and handed over the garment.

A scorched black tear had been burned in the back of the robe. Qun Qing examined the remaining gold thread—as Ruo Chan said, only three strands remained. Even using them all wouldn’t be enough for repairs. Gold thread was precious, with fixed allocations from the Palace Clothing Bureau. If she applied for more, this matter couldn’t be concealed.

Moreover, even if there were enough, using gold thread to patch gold-cloud color would look crude and ugly.

Qun Qing rubbed the robe with her thumb. This robe, thin as cicada wings, was expensive gauze. She said to Ruo Chan: “I didn’t want to help you originally. Do you know why I don’t want to help you?”

“Because just now, you also attacked me. Forced to attack or not, you still attacked.” Qun Qing’s voice was stern.

Ruo Chan’s head hung very low as she sobbed quietly.

“I can help the weak, but I never help the ungrateful.” Qun Qing pulled out the gold thread and glanced at her. “If I help you through this crisis, how will you repay me? From now on, you’ll take on half my cleaning duties.”

Ruo Chan nodded repeatedly.

“I also want you to never betray me, even if forced.”

Ruo Chan started. Her face flushed red with embarrassment. As she nodded, her sleeve kept wiping her tears. She felt guilty and panicked, not knowing how Qun Qing could help her—it was burned so badly!

“The third thing.” The gold thread stretched between Qun Qing’s two fingers. Her fingers were slender, her thumbnail trimmed round and smooth. It pressed against that gold thread and gave a light shake.

Ruo Chan thought she was seeing things. That thin gold thread split in two from the middle, becoming two even finer threads.

Qun Qing drew out one strand, shook it again, and like a magic trick, split it in two once more. The two silk threads between her fingers were now fine as silkworm silk.

The method of making gold thread was to draw gold foil into extremely fine gold wire and twist it together with several silk threads to create gold thread. Qun Qing’s action was precisely returning this thread to its original state.

She used a needle to pick out the gold wire and arranged the nine extracted silk threads. She cut away the scorched parts and skillfully threaded the needle. Ruo Chan held her breath watching for a while, looking at Qun Qing in amazement as if seeing someone from another world.

Qun Qing’s black hair draped over her shoulders, her profile cool and composed. When she first started stitching, her hand felt slightly unfamiliar, but soon she rediscovered that natural, fluid feeling. Her hands mimicked the original pattern of the gauze, densely mending the gap.

Ruo Chan stared at the robe, eyes transfixed, watching the gap gradually restore itself, becoming a wisp of lively down on the peacock’s tail, barely daring to breathe.

“The third thing.” Qun Qing handed the robe to Ruo Chan. “From now on, pray for my safety and good fortune.”

“What… what?” Ruo Chan was stunned.

“You’re a female Daoist, aren’t you? You should know how to perform rituals?” Qun Qing placed the embroidered ram’s-head sachet on her pillow.

Ruo Chan had already forgotten to ask how she’d seen through her identity. Seeing her serious expression, not joking at all, she hurriedly bowed: “Does the young lady believe in spirits and gods? That… that’s even better! This item… this item is the young lady’s protective talisman. I’ll use everything I’ve learned in my life, making wishes day and night to ward off disasters and pray for blessings for you!”

Qun Qing finally nodded with satisfaction and lay down.

As someone living precariously day to day, seeking divine protection was also her way of preserving her life.

Calling this sachet a protective talisman wasn’t entirely wrong.

The sachet was a gift from her mother. Inside were a belt buckle and two sword tassels—the last relics her father and Shi Yuming had left in this world.

A’Meng and A’Jiang kept their ears pricked, quietly listening to everything. Hearing this, A’Jiang could no longer endure the torment. She sat up with a carp-leap and pulled out an ingot of gold from under her pillow: “Sister Qing, I’ll call you Sister. You’re capable, and I imagine you’ll find out sooner or later anyway: A’Meng and I didn’t want to make things difficult for you. It’s because Bao Shu from Luanyi Pavilion secretly gave us silver and asked us to teach you a good lesson!”