[But the maid wore a form-fitting, watery-red long dress, covered by a light green outer vest. When she moved, she was like smoke and willow, her glances full of sentiment. With a turn of her eyes, a few threads of flirtatious charm would appear.]
[The maids in the residence, in order to serve their masters well, all dressed modestly, keeping their attire neat and tidy, not daring to be ostentatious. She alone was different. Two strands of red ribbon hung brightly in her hair, each dangling a copper coin. With every sway, they would swing. Unable to afford proper pearl and jade hairpins, she would instead pluck a handful of tender pomegranate blossoms to adorn her entire head.]
[To say she was foolish would be wrong, for she was sharp in every way, with a slick and eloquent personality. But to say she was clever would also be wrong, for she wore her calculations and restlessness plainly on her face.]
[Lin Wan knew with a single glance that this was not a dutiful or reliable person. If the opportunity arose, it would be best to send her away.]
…
Strange words echoed endlessly in her mind. A gust of wind blew past, shattering the reflection on the lake’s surface. Xi Hongrui blinked slowly.
At this moment, she was no longer the original hereditary servant who had accompanied the Prime Minister’s daughter as part of her dowry, but a lonely soul reborn after death.
In her previous life, she had strived and fought for a lifetime, only to end up disfigured, sold to a brothel, and left to rot into the mud.
Only after her death did she learn that she was a character in a “novel.”
In the time after she died, she had read that “novel” which detailed her entire fate over and over again, so familiar with it that she had even memorized the “reader comments.”
Yet, no sentence had left a deeper impression on her than the passage from just now.
Restless… restless… restless…
Xi Hongrui bit her lip hard, until she tasted a faint, sweet metallic tang.
She raised her hands to her head, tore out all the bright red pomegranate blossoms, crushed them into a pulp, and threw them into the water.
The other young maids beside her were startled by her sudden, violent action. They stopped their chatter, but soon began to giggle again. “My, my, Grandma Hong, what’s gotten you so worked up?”
The other young maids also chimed in with crisp laughter, like a tree full of orioles.
Xi Hongrui slanted her eyes at the boisterous girls, only then realizing that she had been reborn.
Struggling to calm herself, she gritted her teeth and snorted. “Who let you talk about this baseless nonsense? What prime minister’s daughter eloping with a poor scholar? And the poor scholar just happens to become the Number One Scholar in the exams, so much so that even a precious royal princess is eager to marry him.”
“Pah! What kind of ridiculous dream is the poor sod who wrote this book having? Even if he becomes the Number One Scholar, he’s just an eighth-rank official. He’d still have to bow and scrape when he sees the Prime Minister. The Prime Minister’s daughter is a lady of noble birth to begin with. Why make it sound like she’s the one getting the better end of the deal!”
The young maids, who had been taking advantage of their leisure time to discuss a popular storybook, paused. Seeing Xi Hongrui’s furious face, they couldn’t help but purse their lips.
That scholar was devoted and handsome, and he even passed the exam to become the Number One Scholar. What an incredible figure! How dare a mere servant like her find fault with him!
All the girls here were in the bloom of youth, a time when they worried about their future marriages. Hearing the storyteller describe the character and appearance of that Number One Scholar, they were all infatuated. How could they tolerate their dream lover being so casually disparaged?
One of them immediately spoke with veiled sarcasm, “I say, Grandma Hong, we call you ‘Grandma’ out of respect, but you’re not really taking yourself for a grand dame, are you? Even the Number One Scholar isn’t good enough for your esteemed eyes. Who do you want to be matched with then, a prince or a duke’s son? Hahaha~”
The crowd burst into laughter. This was the Prince’s Residence, and Xi Hongrui was the Crown Princess Consort’s dowry maid. The phrase “prince or a duke’s son” was a clear jab at her.
Xi Hongrui seemed to be provoked by them. She drew out her words, her voice ringing out, “Well, I really do look down on him!”
The others had intended to put her in her place, but they didn’t expect her to play along and climb even higher. They grew annoyed, but before they could speak, Xi Hongrui cut in, “A Prime Minister’s daughter is worthy of marrying even the emperor. If I were the young lady in the story, I’d marry the emperor and bask in the Dragon Qi. How can all the common men under the heavens compare to the True Dragon in the sky?”
The others were stunned for a moment, then burst out laughing. “What a sharp-tongued little vixen, you want to marry the emperor! If you could marry the emperor, your family’s wicked ancestral grave would have to burn for three days and three nights straight, hahaha!”
Xi Hongrui grew a little flustered. “Who said I want to marry the emperor? I said if!”
But the others completely ignored her explanation, their jeers growing even louder.
Xi Hongrui was exasperated. She stood up and stomped her foot. “Laugh! Go on and laugh! Laugh yourselves to death, you flock of foul-mouthed mongrel ducks! I’m not playing with you anymore!”
With that, she covered her face with her handkerchief, turned, and ran off.
As the wild laughter behind her gradually subsided, the embarrassed and angry expression under Xi Hongrui’s handkerchief also slowly vanished.
In her past life, at this very place and this very time, she had said something similar.
Except back then, she wouldn’t have spoken up for the young lady in the storybook. The Prime Minister’s daughter was not her concern; she was just a maid and only cared about a maid’s affairs.
So when she heard the end of the story, where the Number One Scholar overcame all obstacles to finally welcome back his original wife, even making the Prime Minister’s daughter his primary wife and the princess his concubine, Xi Hongrui’s focus was different from the others, who were all fixated on the beautiful love story. Instead, she focused on an inconspicuous detail.
The young maid who had suffered alongside the Prime Minister’s daughter was married off to the Number One Scholar’s manservant, creating two happy couples.
Xi Hongrui had been leisurely painting her nails and listening for fun, but upon hearing this, she couldn’t hold back and spat fiercely. “When that young lady was in distress, her maid sold her winter coat to desperately help her. With such a life-and-death bond, even if she wasn’t elevated to be a concubine, that’s one thing. But how could they marry her off to a manservant?”
The young maids listening to the story with her would squabble with her over a fictitious Number One Scholar, but they wouldn’t do so over a manservant. Thinking about it, they realized she had a point.
To be the personal maid of a Prime Minister’s daughter, she must have been a hereditary servant sold to the Prime Minister’s residence to ensure her reliability and loyalty.
Once registered as a slave, one was no longer even considered a commoner. Even if she appeared respectable serving the Prime Minister’s daughter, she could never escape the label of being “lowly.” As long as the master’s family did not release her, she and her descendants would be slaves for generations to come, their children and grandchildren branded with the same lowly status. How could that compare to the respectability of being a Number One Scholar’s concubine?
Although there were daughters of good families among them, they were still just maids. They could tell the difference between being a manservant’s wife and a Number One Scholar’s concubine, so they immediately chimed in with their agreement.
Having gained the support of her companions, Xi Hongrui didn’t dwell on the matter and continued to joke around.
In her life full of dramatic ups and downs, this conversation hadn’t been particularly important. But after seeing that “novel” after her death, she learned what people from outside the book thought of her.
[Tsk, the moment this Hong-something appeared, I knew she was trouble. What proper maid dresses so seductively? She’s definitely going to climb into his bed in the future!]
[I’m so mad! What kind of self-righteous homewrecker talk is this? So just because the maid saved the young lady, the young lady has to share her husband? Look at how eager she is to climb into the male lead’s bed, so shameless. The female lead was so good to her! A heart of a wolf and lungs of a dog, ungrateful wretch!]
[Bitch! All homewreckers deserve a horrible death!]
[No, no, no! Concubines in ancient times were different from modern-day mistresses! But this maid definitely has issues. She’s the Prime Minister’s daughter’s personal maid, her monthly allowance alone is one tael and one string of cash, which is almost twenty taels a year. An ordinary family back then couldn’t earn that much even with a full year of hard labor. She’s basically a high-level white-collar worker of her time. In ancient times, concubines were of a lowly class and could be bought and sold. A girl from a good family with any self-respect would never debase herself to become a concubine. It’s one thing if someone is forced into it by circumstances, but someone like her is just purely vain and wants an easy life. She’s not worthy of any pity at all.]
[Am I the only one who finds this woman hilarious? A mere maid, fantasizing about the Crown Prince. Does she really think she’s some Mary Sue protagonist? A bunch of princes and the emperor will overlook the actual young lady and fall for you instead? Hahaha!]
[Get this bitch offline already, so annoying!]
Xi Hongrui was illiterate, so these words were as if branded into her mind, every mocking tone crystal clear.
Growing up, she had heard the word “lowly” all too often. Lowly maid, lowly girl, lowly person, lowly wench—there were countless ways to be lowly, and she had grown accustomed to being a lowly person.
But no version of the word “lowly” made her grit her teeth more than the “lowly” in those comments.
When people in her reality called her lowly, she wouldn’t say anything, but she would record every instance in her heart, waiting for a chance to retaliate in full, to let them know just what kind of lowly person they had provoked!
But she couldn’t do that to the commenters. They seemed to be from another world, possessing a transcendent arrogance. Before them, she was like an ant—filthy, despicable, and even laughable.
A person could retaliate against those who scorned them, but how could an ant retaliate against a person—or a “god”—who was high above?
There was nothing she could do, and she felt so angry she was about to cry. And then, she did cry.
Pulling down the handkerchief, she didn’t want to stain it with tears for nothing and have to go to the trouble of washing it. She just used the back of her hand to rub her eyes forcefully, shoving the worthless tears back into their sockets.
When she was little, there was only that one time she was slapped by an old crone who was full of herself for having nursed the young master for a few days. She had cried for half a day from the pain and grievance. But other than that, when had she ever suffered a loss!
No matter how formidable those commenters were, they were just a bunch of irrelevant onlookers. They could watch whatever drama they wanted.
But to think they could curse her into tears and make her feel ashamed of herself? In their dreams