Dragging the straw mat to the palace gate, Jing Wan’er held up the token in her hand: “The palace’s corpse-collecting chamber. Handling bodies.”
The two gate guards glanced at the rolled-up mat on the ground and said coldly, “Open it. Let us see.”
Jing Wan’er did not argue. She bent down without hesitation and untied the rope binding the mat. At once, the straw mat spread open.
It revealed a woman in palace maid attire, face buried beneath her hair, body drenched in blood and reeking of death. When uncovered, her complexion was pale, and her breath was completely gone.
The guards immediately covered their noses in disgust and waved their hands: “Drag it away! Drag it away!”
They had insisted on seeing, yet now recoiled as if it were a plague.
The corner of Jing Wan’er’s lips curved faintly. She crouched again, tied up the mat, and with one hand gripping the rope, dragged the “corpse” out of the palace gate.
This time, the guards even stepped aside deliberately, as though to avoid contamination from death’s ill omen.
Jing Wan’er walked for a long while, dragging the mat, until the palace gate was far behind her.
It was said: once you enter the palace, it is as deep as the sea. Every day, people die. Those without family to claim them are dragged away and burned by lowly maids like Jing Wan’er.
The place she dragged them to was the “mass grave” outside Xuanwu Gate.
Jing Wan’er looked at the mat again, calmly untied it, and fixed her gaze on the “corpse.” From her hair she drew out a silver needle. She pierced the needle into the neck of the “body.” The figure twitched—and moments later, opened her eyes.
“Get up. We’ve arrived,” Jing Wan’er said coolly.
The palace maid sat bolt upright, realizing she was whole and unharmed. Tears welled instantly. She dropped to her knees, knocking her head to the ground: “Thank you! Thank you for saving my life! Such grace—I will repay it even if I must be a beast of burden in the next life!”
Jing Wan’er regarded her silently. Entering the palace meant never leaving alive—except for those who were “dead.”
This was not the first time she had done such work: helping condemned maids escape under the guise of corpses, snatching another chance at life.
“You don’t need to be a beast of burden,” Jing Wan’er said lightly. “Just don’t forget what you promised me.”
The maid froze, then nodded firmly: “Rest assured. I will never forget.”
She had once served Lady Ji, the newly favored concubine. After offending her, she was cast into the labor ward to await death. Somehow, she had found Jing Wan’er.
Jing Wan’er slid the silver needle back into her hair and pointed: “Wait here until nightfall. Then head south, climb over the palace wall, and slip into the night market. There is curfew at night—if you can endure until dawn, you’ll be safe.”
The maid’s eyes shone with desperate hope. Better to cling to life than surrender to death. She kowtowed again: “I will not forget your grace.”
After settling the maid, Jing Wan’er dragged the now-empty mat back to Xuanwu Gate. The guards, faces twisted in distaste, didn’t even bother to question her this time. She was used to such looks—disdain, insult. For years, they had been as ordinary to her as drinking water.
Back in her quarters, she shook off her clothes, tossed the mat into the firewood shed, and locked the door. Pine resin would be burned overnight to dispel the stench.
Handling corpses daily, one learned tricks of the trade.
When she entered the maids’ dormitory, she found her bedding in disarray. Testing it, she discovered it was soaked through, impossible to sleep on. She turned to the other maids, feigning innocence. “Who did this?”
No one answered. One even rolled her eyes. Among palace women, those who dealt with corpses were despised—lower even than latrine cleaners.
Trouble brewed where women gathered. Jing Wan’er strode toward them. They scattered like flies. “What are you doing? Don’t cause trouble!”
“I’m not causing trouble,” Jing Wan’er said evenly. “I’ve worked all day. Now I need to sleep.”
She reached out suddenly, grabbing at one maid. The girl panicked and dodged aside. Jing Wan’er’s hand did not falter—she seized the bedding behind the maid and pulled it into her arms. She carried it to her own bed, tossing her soaked quilt to the floor.
The maid who had been robbed shrieked: “Give me back my quilt!”
She lunged at Jing Wan’er. But Jing Wan’er turned coldly, freezing her in place with a glare.
“I just came back from handling corpses. I haven’t even washed yet. Think carefully—do you still want this quilt I’ve touched?”
That remark struck right at the maid’s sore spot. In truth, none of the maids in this room dared to actually touch Jing Wan’er. The maid’s face flushed with a mix of shame and anger. She glared at the quilt Jing Wan’er held tightly in her arms, her expression torn between disgust and unwillingness.
Jing Wan’er smiled inwardly as she slowly spread the quilt across her own bed. This maid was the ringleader of those who opposed her. Even if soaking her quilt hadn’t been her idea, she was still complicit.
What you do, you must suffer the consequences.
Jing Wan’er sat gracefully at the bedside, her gaze falling on the sodden quilt lying on the floor. “Looks like tonight, you’ll have to sleep under that one.”
The maid gnashed her teeth. “Jing Wan’er, don’t go too far!”
But who was really going too far? Jing Wan’er turned her eyes away.
The maid stamped her foot in fury. “You think I don’t dare tell Madam Liang? Don’t be too pleased with yourself—she’ll throw you out of the menial servants’ quarters!”
Jing Wan’er cut her off: “Thrown out? Really? Right now, I’m the only one here who handles corpses. If I’m expelled, who will take my place? You?”
That line hit even harder. The other three maids in the room all changed color.
An older maid hurried forward to pull the furious girl back. “Enough, Qiao’er. We live under the same roof—don’t make things too ugly.”
Qiao’er trembled with rage. “Why should I endure this? Didn’t you see her steal my quilt?!”
On a freezing night like this, without a quilt, she might freeze to death. Of course, she would never admit she had provoked Jing Wan’er first, and that this was the price of her own scheming.
Another maid tried to smooth things over with a laugh. “Come on, just squeeze in with me tonight. Tomorrow we’ll hang the quilt out to dry.”
Qiao’er felt utterly wronged. But Jing Wan’er had already lain down openly on the quilt, and Qiao’er didn’t have the courage to snatch it back.
In the end, after half-hearted persuasion from the others, Qiao’er swallowed her anger. Inwardly, though, she cursed: *Jing Wan’er, you wretched creature, just wait!*
They all knew that crossing Jing Wan’er never ended well. Yet time and again, the maids found new ways to torment her. Perhaps it was simply disgust—disgust at the strange girl who dealt with corpses daily without flinching.
Jing Wan’er knew they saw her as a freak. But she didn’t care. In fact, she relished their looks of revulsion and fear. Only those with guilty hearts fear death. And in this palace, whose conscience was clean?
After a night’s sleep, Jing Wan’er shook off her fatigue. The next day, she was summoned by Madam Liang.
Madam Liang sat on her couch while two maids kneaded her legs. In the servants’ quarters, she was like the Empress Dowager—no one dared defy her.
“Yesterday, the execution ground sent a corpse. It’s already been dragged to your yard. Dispose of it quickly, and make sure it’s clean.” Madam Liang lifted her cold brows and fixed Jing Wan’er with a sharp gaze.
Her words carried a clear meaning: burn it to ash, leave not even a bone fragment. That was the cleanest way.
Jing Wan’er’s face remained calm. “This servant understands.”
Madam Liang’s dark eyes lingered before she finally withdrew them. “Go. This time, Qiao’er will assist you.”
Jing Wan’er was taken aback. Qiao’er? Assist her?
Before she could ask, Madam Liang’s voice cut coldly: “Didn’t you hear me? Leave.”
Jing Wan’er lowered her eyes. “Yes.”
Back in the yard, she found Qiao’er waiting, her face frosted over, glaring at her with hatred.
Jing Wan’er understood at once. Madam Liang had already told Qiao’er about today’s task. Qiao’er couldn’t defy her superior, so she could only deepen her resentment toward Jing Wan’er.
“You vile freak! Did you whisper something to Madam Liang about me?” Qiao’er spat.
Jing Wan’er ignored her, as always. Her mind was elsewhere, wondering what was unusual about this corpse.
For two years, Madam Liang had never assigned anyone else to help. Even when the body was too large for Jing Wan’er to move alone, she never sent assistance. And now—of all people—Qiao’er. Was she truly capable? She only ever showed skill when plotting malice against Jing Wan’er.
So why now? Unless it was precisely because their enmity was well known. Madam Liang had paired them together to watch her.
Jing Wan’er’s thoughts stirred. Madam Liang’s pointed reminder—”make it clean”—suddenly seemed to carry another meaning. She began to suspect the identity of this corpse.