“A pot of hot water.” A guard from beside the carriage walked over through the rain, handed a piece of broken silver to the tea master, and emphasized: “Hot water, not hot tea.”

The tea master was stunned, accepted the broken silver, and nodded repeatedly: “Very well, esteemed guest, please wait a moment.”

Having spent years tending the tea shed by the official road, the tea master had long grown accustomed to all kinds of distinguished guests. Such a request wasn’t excessive – previously, someone had even wanted to buy sauced beef at his tea stall.

Jiang Yuanchao drank his tea without showing any emotion, watching as the young guard took a large-bellied white porcelain pot from the tea master and returned to the carriage. Soon, a slender hand extended from the carriage window and received the white porcelain pot.

The brocade curtain fell, concealing the scene within.

Jiang Yuanchao withdrew his gaze.

The young guard’s eyes flashed like lightning as he glanced at Jiang Yuanchao once, then stood beside the carriage window speaking in low tones. Due to the rain blocking the sound, nothing could be heard clearly.

Soon, the brocade curtain lifted, a basin of water was poured out from within, merging with the heavy rain, and the carriage slowly started moving again.

Catching sight of an inconspicuous mark somewhere on the carriage, Jiang Yuanchao’s hand holding the teacup paused as he guessed the identity of the person inside.

So it was that the renowned Ninth Princess. All of this princess’s belongings were marked with iris flowers – something he had learned from his sworn sister Jiang Shiran several years ago.

Jiang Shiran was his adoptive father’s precious daughter, and his adoptive father was the current emperor’s most trusted milk brother, so Jiang Shiran and this Ninth Princess could be considered close friends.

Indeed, around the capital, any person one randomly encountered was no simple character.

Jiang Yuanchao finished the last sip of tea, put down several copper coins, and stepped into the rain curtain.

It seemed he had been away from the capital too long – many people and matters had become unfamiliar.

In the rain, Jiang Yuanchao thought for a moment, then turned around and headed back in the direction he had come from.

This spring rain was quite substantial, followed by over ten consecutive days of overcast weather. The day before Buddha’s Birthday, the sky finally cleared after the rain.

The cluster of banana plants in the West Side Courtyard was lush and verdant, lazily stretching their branches and leaves in the wind.

Qiao Zhao put down her brush, rose, and paced to the window to rest for a moment. When she returned and saw that the ink on the Buddhist scriptures on her desk had dried, she instructed Binglu: “Pack these up and send them to the Old Madam.”

These past days, not having to pay morning respects and with no young ladies from either the East or West Residence coming to provoke her, Miss Qiao’s days passed quite peacefully, and she quickly finished copying a complete scripture.

“Yes.” Binglu looked at the copied scriptures with great joy, pursing her lips in a smile as she said: “Miss, this servant dares say that all the young ladies in the capital combined don’t have handwriting as beautiful as yours. This time, your scriptures will surely catch the eye of the high monks and be sent to Shuying Nunnery.”

“Mm, I think so too.” Qiao Zhao smiled.

Binglu opened her mouth in surprise.

Her miss’s tone of complete confidence was truly unexpected yet refreshing!

“What are you thinking about?” Qiao Zhao asked.

Binglu came back to her senses, her eyebrows dancing with excitement: “This servant was thinking of past events. That year, when Miss copied Master Qiao’s calligraphy to give to the East Residence’s Grand Master as a birthday gift, she was laughed at by Second Miss. Though First Miss didn’t say anything aloud, she must have been gloating inside. And Fourth Miss and Sixth Miss – they were all laughing at Miss. Now it’s good – Miss has finally mastered it. Let’s see who can laugh at Miss now!”

“Yes, it won’t happen again in the future.” Qiao Zhao said with feeling, reaching out to pinch Binglu’s face. “Go quickly, you really talk too much.”

Binglu blinked, her cheeks suddenly flushing red.

Miss always said one thing but meant another – she liked hearing her talk.

The little maid packed up the copied Buddhist scriptures, turned around, and ran off.

She hurried to Qingsong Hall, leaning against a corridor pillar and breathing slightly hard.

Qing Yun came out just in time to see her and asked: “Why has Binglu come over?”

There are no walls that don’t let wind through, let alone the incident that day when First Miss and Second Miss caused a scene at Third Miss’s place – there were quite a few servants present. Although matters concerning the two young ladies didn’t spread outside, word had long quietly circulated among the household servants.

Because of this, Qing Yun vaguely felt that Third Miss wasn’t as simple as she had appeared in the past, so her attitude toward Binglu became somewhat more courteous.

Binglu didn’t understand Qing Yun’s thoughts, but these past days, she had felt that moving about the residence was much smoother than before, so she had been in good spirits. Hearing the question, she smiled brightly: “Sister Qing Yun, our Miss has finished copying the Buddhist scriptures. I’ve come to deliver them to the Old Madam.”

“So it’s this matter. Let me take them in for you.”

Binglu quickly shook her head: “I want to present them to the Old Madam personally.”

She also wanted to hear how the Old Madam praised her miss, so she could go back and tell her miss to make her happy.

Qing Yun was somewhat displeased upon hearing this, but knowing that this girl Binglu had always been somewhat simple-minded, she didn’t want to argue with her, so she said: “Then follow me.”

When Binglu followed Qing Yun inside, Old Madam Deng was reclining on a beauty couch with a clear-featured little maid kneeling at her feet massaging her legs.

“This servant greets the Old Madam.” Before the highest-ranking mistress in the West Residence, Binglu properly paid her respects.

Old Madam Deng opened her eyes. Upon seeing it was Binglu, her eyelids twitched as she asked nervously: “What matter does Third Miss have now?”

Upon hearing this, Binglu felt aggrieved on behalf of her mistress.

How could the Old Madam use the word “now”? Her miss never caused trouble – trouble always found her!

Binglu held up the box containing the scriptures high, saying crisply: “Old Madam, my miss has finished copying the Buddhist scriptures and commanded this servant to bring them for your inspection.”

Old Madam Deng was quite surprised.

Although she had punished Third Girl with copying scriptures while confined to her room, she hadn’t expected that girl to do it properly, especially after the incident of being falsely accused – she had thought even less about it. She hadn’t expected Third Girl to quietly finish copying them!

The Old Madam gave Qing Yun a meaningful look.

Qing Yun took the box from Binglu’s hands and passed it to the Old Madam.

“Mm, go back and tell Third Miss that she did well this time. I’m very pleased.”

Regardless of how well it was copied, the attitude was worth encouraging.

“Old Madam, won’t you take a look?” Binglu asked hopefully.

Qing Yun couldn’t help but glare at Binglu.

What an ill-mannered little wretch, daring to speak to the Old Madam like that!

Seeing the little maid’s face full of expectation, Old Madam Deng couldn’t help but smile. She reached out to open the box, took out the copied scriptures, and casually flipped through them: “Let me see—”

The old lady’s subsequent words stuck in her throat. Her usually half-narrowed eyes widened like saucers, as if she had seen a ghost.

Qing Yun was startled: “Old Madam, what’s wrong?”

Elderly people might suddenly fall ill over any little thing, and when that happened, close personal maids like her would have no good fate!

Qing Yun fiercely glared at Binglu, both angry and furious: “What did you show the Old Madam?”

Could it be that Third Miss’s handwriting was so ugly it could frighten people out of their wits?

Qing Yun’s gaze fell on the scriptures in Old Madam Deng’s hands, and she too became speechless.

After a long while, Old Madam Deng finally came to her senses, looking at Binglu with quite complex eyes: “Binglu, did you pack the wrong thing?”

How did you bring Master Qiao’s calligraphy samples, renowned throughout the realm?