“Everyone has curiosity. If I said I had not the slightest interest in knowing My Lady’s identity, My Lady would not believe me — so why bother pretending?”
Feng Jiu’er at last brought her thoughts under control and focused her attention on the veiled Lady’s legs.
The foot tendons had been severed — and in an exceedingly cruel manner. At the time, the injury must have been severe enough to tear through flesh and skin together, gouging out a sizable portion of tissue.
Yet this veiled Lady — whether because of her exceptional inner cultivation — had apparently recovered to the point where only a scar remained from what had once been such a grievous wound.
The scar was ugly. Most likely its owner did not care about that either, for once the wound had healed, the scar was simply of no consequence.
But while the surface wound had healed, the inner tendons of the foot had been severed. With the foot tendons cut for so long before anyone finally sought treatment, this would be very difficult.
“I have only a thirty percent chance of success.” When the examination was complete, Feng Jiu’er said.
The two maids standing on either side were momentarily stunned, and seemed almost unable to believe it.
The slightly younger maid’s expression darkened again, and she was about to lose her temper once more: “No need to speak irresponsibly.”
“You are startled because every physician who has examined My Lady has immediately shaken their head and said they could do nothing.”
A shadow passed over the depths of both maids’ eyes. At least Feng Jiu’er had spoken the truth about that — every physician who had examined the Lady had opened with: “I’m afraid this is beyond my abilities.”
So this white-robed young person’s “thirty percent” was not disappointing to them at all — it was, instead, a hope they had never before had.
Still, they all felt it was not entirely reliable, since for now everything rested solely on this white-robed young person’s word.
“How do we know you haven’t made this up to save yourself?” the younger maid asked, frowning.
“If I were trying to save myself, I would have told you I had a fifty percent chance.”
Feng Jiu’er set the veiled Lady’s trouser legs back down, then smoothed the outer skirt into place, and only then rose to her feet. Looking at the veiled Lady, she was completely sincere.
“All of my family and friends are within the imperial city. My Lady need not worry I will run away. However, there are certain medicines I must prepare myself before I can treat My Lady — so I must go back in person.”
“Out of the question!” The younger maid said unhappily. “From this moment on, you must remain here. Whatever medicines you need, we will have them delivered to you — you may ask for anything.”
“No.” Feng Jiu’er’s expression had not changed in the slightest, but her words were firm and brooked no argument. “I still have my own life, my own livelihood. I cannot abandon everything simply to treat My Lady.”
“Insolent!” The younger maid nearly raised her hand again. The attitude of this white-robed young person was truly beyond anything she had ever seen.
What manner of person was the Lady? If only this young person would heal her, they would be given anything they desired — so what need was there to speak of their own livelihood?
Moreover, in a situation like this, the priority was obviously to heal the Lady as quickly as possible. How could they possibly let this person leave — let alone leave the palace?
And furthermore — what if this person, once outside, told others about the Lady’s presence here? What then?
Feng Jiu’er did not look at the maid. She looked only at the veiled Lady. “My Lady’s status is of the utmost nobility. But even as a commoner, in the story of my own life, I remain the protagonist — not My Lady.”
Those words were breathtakingly bold — almost lawless in their audacity. In an age where everything was governed by hierarchy, where all things and all people had their ordained place, this was nothing less than a provocation aimed at the nobility — even at the imperial family itself.
And yet, bold as those words were, no one could refute them.
Was there anything wrong with what Feng Jiu’er said? Whose life was it, if not their own story? Even the most wretched slave alive — was not living for themselves?
⒏BOok.ｃOm
Even if one took the most generous view — even the kindest person, the one most willing to think of others and do good, did good deeds not also to ease their own conscience, to satisfy their own sense of fulfillment?
It was simply that such words had never been spoken before — that within the realm of the imperial family, apart from the Emperor, who else would dare to speak thus?
The veiled Lady stared at Feng Jiu’er, staring straight into the deepest depths of her eyes.
Feng Jiu’er returned her gaze openly, neither flinching nor evading, with a clear conscience.
After a long silence, the veiled Lady’s lips curled ever so slightly. Even with the veil between them, one could somehow sense the contentment in her mood.
“Very well. I grant you permission to leave.”
“My Lady!” Even the older maid’s expression changed at that, and she said urgently, “The secret of My Lady’s presence here cannot—”
“What could she possibly know? Only that somewhere in this deep palace there is a Lady of mysterious identity, with a leg ailment, who does not show respect to Emperor Qiwen?”
The veiled Lady waved her hand and leaned back against the chair, a slight smile on her lips. “My own life — should it not also be something other than hiding and unease?”
“I am grateful for My Lady’s grace.” Before either of the two maids could say anything further, Feng Jiu’er had already bowed respectfully toward the veiled Lady and said earnestly, “My Lady’s leg ailment — I will keep it in my thoughts at all times. As soon as the necessary preparations are complete, I will come at once to treat you.”
“Go.”
“My Lady…” The two maids still wished to dissuade her.
But the veiled Lady had no further interest in conversation. She casually picked up a book and began to read it with complete absorption, and the room fell instantly quiet. The two maids did not even dare to breathe too loudly, as though afraid of disturbing her reading.
Feng Jiu’er noticed that the book the veiled Lady was reading was a military strategy text. She was actually reading a treatise on warfare. Truly, this Lady was mysterious and extraordinary.
“In that case, My Lady — would it be possible to ask this elder sister to convey a word to His Majesty and allow me to leave this palace?” Feng Jiu’er said before departing.
The older maid gave a soft snort, faintly disdainful.
She was less impulsive than the younger maid — but as for Feng Jiu’er’s desire to leave, she was absolutely, entirely opposed.
This Lady had been in this place for so many years, and Feng Jiu’er was the first outsider to enter without being silenced.
Of course, silencing people was not something they needed to do themselves — it was all handled by Emperor Qiwen’s own orders.
Even if they were inclined to let her go, Emperor Qiwen would never spare a single outsider who had come here. Now that Feng Jiu’er wished to leave before curing the Lady — and actually hoped to use this maid as a guarantor of her safe passage — that was simply laughable.
Yet half an incense stick’s time later, Feng Jiu’er had truly and unmistakably left that place resembling a cold palace — and indeed, it was the older maid herself who had personally spoken to Emperor Qiwen and had him release the person.
The Lady’s order was one the older maid dared not disobey. As for Emperor Qiwen’s side — though he too was hesitant, after laying down a fierce warning that if anyone else learned of this matter, he would have Tianji Hall razed to the ground — he let her go nonetheless.
Led by the head eunuch, Feng Jiu’er made her way out through a secluded, winding path and circled back to Emperor Qiwen’s sleeping chambers.
Only then was she handed over to a junior eunuch, who led her out from Emperor Qiwen’s sleeping chambers — so that it appeared to all as if Feng Jiu’er had been in the Emperor’s chambers the entire time and was only now taking her leave.
“Who is that? Why are they leaving from His Majesty’s sleeping chambers?” In the distance, a figure stopped in their tracks and stared at Feng Jiu’er’s retreating silhouette, eyes narrowing.
Why did that figure seem so familiar?