Zhao Defei appeared both surprised and unsurprised. After a momentary pause, she maintained her smile and said, “Why would Sister Jiang ask such a thing? Could it be that you suspect me of harboring ill intentions and plotting against you?”
In her previous life, Jiang Ling had been what people called a “demolition heiress.Aside from several apartments allocated through demolition, her family owned multiple storefront properties that were all rented out.
After graduating from university, she had worked as an office drone for a period. Due to her personality and her utter intolerance for what her superiors and colleagues called the “art of speaking,” she resolutely resigned.
Being transmigrated into this palace intrigue novel, Jiang Ling firmly believed it was heaven’s punishment. After all, her life as a landlady had been far too comfortable—she was here to endure tribulations.
Hearing Zhao Defei evade the question and throw it back at her, Jiang Ling felt as if she had returned to her working days. However, those days were nothing compared to now. Back then, if her boss spoke nonsense, she could simply walk away. Facing Zhao Defei, Jiang Ling had no choice but to endure and repeat her question.
“I have no talent and do not deserve rewards without merit. I cannot accept Your Highness’s kindness. I am terribly foolish—I truly cannot grasp implied meanings nor read people’s expressions. Please speak plainly.”
Her words carried a sharp, almost petulant tone. Zhao Defei slowly withdrew her hand, her smile unchanged but her gaze cooling.
“Sister Jiang, how amusing. We are all sisters in the rear palace. Managing palace affairs was permitted by His Majesty himself. Since it is the Emperor’s decree, if we oppose it, we would be defying his orders.”
Jiang Ling grew furious hearing Zhao Defei use rules and Yuan Mingdi to pressure her. The angrier she became, the duller her mind turned, leaving her momentarily speechless.
“Ah, Sister Jiang!” Zhao Defei sighed, patting the brocade quilt with a helpless expression.
“So many people dream of having some authority, no matter how small. Ultimately, it’s all about power. Men study for imperial examinations and become officials—all for the sake of that single word: power.”
Zhao Defei subtly observed Jiang Ling before shifting her tone: “But this power—some can hold it steady, while others cannot, ultimately ending up with nothing.”
Jiang Ling was utterly confused and said woodenly, “Your Highness, I am too foolish to understand what you mean.”
“How could Sister Jiang be foolish? Truly foolish people would never recognize their own stupidity.”
Zhao Defei raised her hand, covering her mouth with a handkerchief as she tittered: “Sister Jiang is truly remarkable—beautiful and wise yet appearing simple. If I were a man, I would want to marry you. No wonder the Emperor holds you in such regard.”
A chill ran down Jiang Ling’s spine. Being praised and considered clever by Zhao Defei was definitely not a good thing.
“Are you troubled about the candles and lamp oil in the storeroom?” Zhao Defei asked leisurely after her laughter subsided.
Seeing that Zhao Defei had finally gotten to the main point, Jiang Ling promptly affirmed, “I fear the candle and lamp counts might be inaccurate. If there are shortages later, I cannot afford to compensate.”
Zhao Defei said, “Sister Jiang worries too much. When I took over the storeroom, I never counted exactly how many candles there were. Burning an extra candle or using an additional You Duanzi of lamp oil happens frequently. We simply distribute according to the established rules.”
Jiang Ling was taken aback. Consort Zhao’s implication was clear: the candle accounts had always been a tangled mess, and she should abandon any hope of clarifying them.
If it was so straightforward, why had Consort Zhao assigned her this duty? Why had Shen Yi and Granny Huang deliberately pushed her to take inventory?
“Sister Jiang’s meticulous counting must have displeased the Neizang Treasury,” Consort Zhao remarked indifferently.
Jiang Ling froze as realization dawned. The warehouse inventory itself was harmless—the real significance lay with the Neizang Treasury and Neishi Province.
Shen Yi’s delivery of candles while she was in the warehouse had been a test. Unknowingly, she might have already offended the Neizang Treasury.
Was Consort Zhao’s true intention to use the Neizang Treasury against her?
“Sister, do you know who controls the supply of imperial beeswax, white wax, and sesame oil to the palace?”
Jiang Ling was utterly bewildered and shook her head foolishly. “I don’t know.”
“The finest white wax comes from Shu Prefecture, where locals cultivate Chinese wax insects to render it. Beeswax is also primarily produced there. Sesame mainly originates from Shan, Gan, and Ling Prefectures. Since Shu borders these three regions, sesame is transported through Shu to the capital to be processed into oil.”
Consort Zhao continued calmly, “Imperial Concubine Lin’s ancestral home is Shu Prefecture, where her family holds great influence. The Lin family in the capital is the main branch of the Shu Prefecture Lins.”
Jiang Ling’s eyes widened in astonishment. “Your Highness means… the palace’s candle supplies are all handled by Imperial Concubine Lin’s family?”
Consort Zhao didn’t answer directly, smiling instead. “It’s getting late—I should return. Rest well, Sister Jiang. If you have any questions, feel free to ask me. I’ll help you whenever I can.”
After seeing Consort Zhao out, Jiang Ling leaned against a soft cushion, lost in thought.
The truth about the candle trade couldn’t be falsified—a simple investigation would reveal it.
Consort Zhao had claimed she’d never managed to clarify the candle counts, but Jiang Ling’s inventory had shown the real obstacle was the Neizang Treasury.
In the original story, Consort Zhao and Imperial Concubine Lin were sworn rivals. If there were issues with the candles supplied through the Neizang Treasury, Consort Zhao would never miss a chance to undermine Imperial Concubine Lin.
This was no surprise—the Lin family’s control over the palace candle trade meant the Neizang Treasury surely benefited too. They were allies in this scheme.
Consort Zhao hadn’t acted because she either lacked sufficient evidence or was cautious, uncertain of defeating Imperial Concubine Lin.
Jiang Ling had foolishly believed Consort Zhao assigned her the candle duty to find fault, driving her to excel at the task.
Little did she know, every move she made had been anticipated and manipulated by Consort Zhao.
Since the palace candles were supplied by Imperial Concubine Lin’s family, they should have approached Jiang Ling with goodwill when she took over.
But Imperial Concubine Lin never appeared, while Jiang Ling bustled about. Consort Zhao’s people treated her with surface-level respect and obedience.
Reconsidering Consort Zhao’s words, Jiang Ling understood: it was all an attempt to recruit her.
Unwittingly, she had become tied to Consort Zhao—one of her people.
Pawns and subordinates were meant to bear blame and take hits—they were the first to be sacrificed.
Imperial Concubine Lin was stern and rigid, never cracking a smile. If even Consort Zhao dared not act rashly, Jiang Ling wouldn’t last a single round against her.
Consort Zhao had previously regarded her as insignificant, but now she was going to such lengths—clearly because Jiang Ling had moved into Fanying Pavilion and could be of some use.
Making things so complicated meant Consort Zhao had grand ambitions, and it was uncertain when she would cause a major scene.
Jiang Ling was on the verge of tears, silently cursing Yuan Mingdi.
It was all his fault—suddenly going mad and appointing her as Mei Ren, moving her into Fanying Pavilion, turning her into prey for the skilled players in the palace.
It was already lunchtime. Wen Juan returned with the meal, while Qing Wen brought in hot towels and water, tidying up the teacups.
Too exhausted to move, Jiang Ling wiped her hands and face, then instructed Wen Juan to set the food on the low table so she could eat on the couch. Picking up her bowl, she took a sip of warm chicken soup and couldn’t help but smile bitterly at her own predicament.
As the weather grew colder, charcoal was placed beneath the food container to keep the dishes warm. The meal was still hot, fresh, and delicious.
There were some benefits to her promotion, at least—she could now enjoy warm, freshly prepared meals.
Just as Jiang Ling was quietly eating, A Ruo hurriedly lifted the curtain and entered the room, exclaiming excitedly, “Mei Ren, Mei Ren, the Emperor is here!”