The rain fell endlessly, pausing briefly only to eagerly resume its drizzle, the gloomy dawn resembling twilight.
The lotus leaves in the round vat had long withered. Taking advantage of the rain’s cessation, the low-ranking palace maids and eunuchs hastily moved them indoors, waiting to replant them when spring arrived with blooming flowers.
Jiang Ling tightened her wind hood, shielding herself from the biting chill of the wind, and gazed despondently at the sky.
The true winter of Jing City arrived without warning, descending abruptly overnight.
“Mei Ren, it’s cold outside. Please go inside,” Wen Juan hesitated before stepping forward to advise.
The Opening Furnace Festival had not yet arrived, and charcoal was not included in the monthly provisions. The room was dim and chilly.
Jiang Ling shook her head and sat on the stone railing, leaning against it in a daze.
A Ruo was doing needlework outside, her hands cold. After a few stitches, she would pause to blow warm breath onto them. Noticing Jiang Ling’s furrowed brows, she moved her sewing basket closer and said indignantly, “Mei Ren has only been in charge of the Bureau of Candles for a few days, and such a major incident has occurred. It must be someone jealous, secretly scheming to frame you. You must not let this slide, or they’ll think you’re easy to bully!”
Jiang Ling, already irritable, had no intention of responding to A Ruo, but she chuckled at this. “What do you think we should do?”
A Ruo was taken aback. Jiang Ling pressed, “Since you said we can’t let it slide, what do you propose we do to show we’re not easy to bully?”
“The meek get bullied. Anyway, anyway…” A Ruo stammered, her mind racing for solutions.
To assert authority by rank? The rear palace was filled with imperial concubines of higher rank. To compete for favor? Jiang Ling had not attended the emperor for a long time. To compare family backgrounds, offspring, or influence in the rear palace—in every aspect, Jiang Ling fell short.
A Ruo only felt that if she were in such a situation, being wronged and bullied, she would surely be angry. She had no idea what to actually do and remained silent for a long time, unable to articulate a solution.
“A Ruo, idle talk and angry words are the easiest to utter.”
Jiang Ling, in her low spirits, spoke sharply and without mercy.
“If you truly had the capability, you would have long become a female official as you wished. Unfortunately, after all these years in the palace, you’re still just an unranked minor maid. You can’t accomplish great deeds—you can’t even manage to be a proper villain.”
A Ruo bit her lip lightly, hanging her head in grievance, not daring to retort but visibly unconvinced.
Being a good person is hard, but being a villain isn’t easy either. Not everyone has the courage to commit murder or arson. Some who turn to wrongdoing end up as mere errand-running, laboring thugs, taking the fall for others—after all, there are only so who can be the boss.
Recognizing and admitting one’s mediocrity and foolishness, shattering illusions to face oneself, is difficult and painful.
Observing A Ruo’s reaction, Jiang Ling suddenly felt disheartened. She summoned Fang He, Wen Juan, and Qing Wen and said, “You all know about the recent incidents in the palace. Remember, you must be cautious in your words and actions. Do not pry into what you shouldn’t hear, and do not gossip about what you shouldn’t say. Thinking you’re clever will only harm you. If you cause trouble, I won’t be able to save you. Your fate, whether life or death, will be in your own hands.”
The group, rarely seeing Jiang Ling so stern, promptly agreed in unison.
It had been some time since they moved to Fanying Pavilion, and Wen Juan and Qing Wen had been serving closely, yet Jiang Ling had never managed them. After a moment’s thought, she said, “From now on, matters concerning me will be overseen by Wen Juan. The three of you will follow her arrangements.”
Wen Juan was momentarily stunned, then her eyes gradually lit up with pleasant surprise. The others appeared rather taken aback. Fang He and A Ruo couldn’t conceal their disappointment, while Qing Wen remained composed, respectfully acknowledging the instruction.
The monthly ranks and salaries of palace maids were all designated by the Shangshu Neisheng. Even Imperial Concubine Lin couldn’t arbitrarily order their promotion.
The close attendants of favored imperial concubines often received frequent rewards in daily life, with subordinates flattering and respecting them, making their lives more comfortable than those of unfavored concubines.
Jiang Ling held a low rank, and according to regulations, the maids serving her had no official rank. Jiang Ling couldn’t directly promote Wen Juan, nor could she afford to give casual rewards with her current salary.
More work meant more mistakes, requiring great effort and mental strain, yet the monthly allowance remained unchanged. Now that Jiang Ling had taken over the troublesome Bureau of Candles, she faced the same situation as Wen Juan.
Already filled with resentment, Jiang Ling certainly wouldn’t let Wen Juan suffer losses. After some consideration, she decided to first subsidize Wen Juan with two qian of silver each month. Depending on her performance, adjustments would be made accordingly.
Jiang Ling said to Wen Juan, “Assign the other rough tasks in the pavilion to you to oversee. First, arrange everyone’s duty schedule, ensuring within a month that everyone gets four days off. Those not on duty must request permission in advance if they wish to go out, and they must go in pairs, not alone.”
Wen Juan hurriedly agreed, saying, “Mei Ren, rest assured, this servant will work diligently and not disappoint your trust.”
Jiang Ling sincerely hoped that Wen Juan would live up to her words as promised. She neither liked nor excelled at making empty promises, simply saying, “You may go attend to your duties.”
Wen Juan gathered the others and withdrew. Jiang Ling stood under the corridor eaves for a while as rain began to drizzle again. The outside was too cold, so she turned back into her room.
Just as she lay down on the couch, Wen Juan lifted the curtain and entered, saying, “Mei Ren, someone from the storeroom has come, saying that Eunuch Huang and Song Sizheng from the Gong Zheng Si have both arrived at the storeroom. Chen Shang Gong, upon receiving the message, has already rushed over. Would Mei Ren like to go?”
Huang Liang and Song Sizheng going to the storeroom must be for investigating the case. Jiang Ling immediately sat up, slipped on her shoes, and headed out: “You and A Ruo come with me.”
Wen Juan quickly fetched a wind hood and draped it over Jiang Ling, saying, “Mei Ren, don’t rush. It’s raining outside; wait for this servant to fetch an umbrella.”
Jiang Ling nodded. Wen Juan ran out to call A Ruo, brought back an umbrella and wooden clogs. After dressing appropriately, they hurried to the storeroom.
Huang Liang and Song Sizheng were in the storeroom’s duty room, questioning the maids from the Bureau of Candles, while Chen Shang Gong waited outside. Seeing Jiang Ling arrive, Chen Shang Gong stepped forward to greet her: “Mei Ren has come.”
Jiang Ling nodded to her, casually observing. Chen Shang Gong had dark circles under her eyes, her complexion sallow, as if she hadn’t slept well at night, appearing listless.
A eunuch went inside to report to Huang Liang, who soon emerged with Song Sizheng. Raising his hand, he said, “Mei Ren has come. This servant and Song Sizheng are here under His Majesty’s order to question the maids on duty at the storeroom. His Majesty decreed not to disturb Mei Ren, so this servant did not come to request instructions.”
Nominally, she was in charge of the Bureau of Candles. If Huang Liang and Song Sizheng were merely casually questioning the maids on duty, they should at least have informed her and Chen Shang Gong.
Jiang Ling’s heart sank slightly, barely suppressing her unease, saying, “Since it’s the Emperor’s command, you should carry out your duties as decreed.”
Huang Liang acknowledged. He looked outside, frowned, and said to the eunuch, “Why hasn’t Fang Sideng arrived yet? Go hurry him along.”
The eunuch hurried to find Fang Sideng. Just as he rushed to the main gate, he encountered the eunuch who had previously been sent to fetch Fang Sideng.
The man looked tense and said something unintelligible. The first eunuch’s expression changed drastically, and the two of them ran back together.
Hearing the commotion, Huang Liang came out. The eunuch gasped for breath and whispered, “Eunuch Huang, Fang Sideng is in the duty room—long gone, his body already stiff.”
Jiang Ling deliberately moved closer to eavesdrop. As the eunuch’s words reached her ears, her face turned pale. She cried out in shock, “What? Fang Sideng is dead?!”