“Oh?” Lin Zhuo raised an eyebrow. “The side consort is ill?”
“Yes. She went for a stroll in the rear garden yesterday, and by nightfall she began coughing.”
“Has an imperial physician seen her?” Lin Zhuo asked again.
Yuxue quickly replied, “Yes, this morning we invited Imperial Physician Liao from the Imperial Hospital. He said it’s only a cold, nothing serious. He prescribed two medicinal formulas. I just finished brewing the decoction myself, and the side consort has already taken it.”
“That’s good. In that case, I won’t disturb her. Tell her to rest well.”
Lin Zhuo nodded and turned to leave. Yuxue let out a quiet sigh of relief and hurried a few steps to see him off.
Just as she turned back toward the house, she heard Lin Zhuo’s voice from a short distance away: “Not returning to the study. Go to Anle Pavilion.”
Yuxue froze. When she looked back again, he was already gone.
The courtyard of Anle Pavilion was completely deserted, yet it didn’t feel desolate at all. A lively chorus of chirping and fluttering filled the air, carrying a bright, spirited energy.
Lin Zhuo stood before the gate, his usually composed expression showing rare surprise. In the courtyard, flocks of sparrows hopped and flitted about; several perched on the trees. The prince’s residence had always been solemn and quiet—he’d never seen such a lively scene here before.
“Well, this is something. How did all these sparrows end up in the princess’s courtyard? If we threw a net over them, there’d be dozens at least,”Xile muttered, craning his neck from behind Lin Zhuo, his tone full of wonder.
Lin Zhuo stepped inside and said calmly, “Why not just ask and find out?”
As soon as they entered, the sparrows scattered in all directions. Xile looked around in confusion—something felt off. When he glanced toward the doorway, he realized that the maids who were supposed to be standing at attention and lifting the curtain were nowhere to be seen.
“Not even a single maid at the door? How lazy can they be?” he grumbled.
Just then, laughter drifted from inside the house. Xile’s face changed. The princess consort is this unrestrained? The prince hates disorder—she’s going to be in trouble for sure.
He sneaked a look at his master’s expression, but Lin Zhuo, as always, remained calm and unreadable.
Xile quickly stepped forward and lifted the curtain for him.
As Lin Zhuo entered, he heard Ruan Mianmian’s cheerful voice from the inner room:
“Alright, that’s enough. Look at Yingchun’s face—if you stick on one more, she won’t even be able to see!”
Lin Zhuo raised an eyebrow and walked in leisurely. Inside, several maids sat around a brazier playing a game with paper pieces; three of them had their faces covered in pasted slips, and the one on the rightmost side was completely plastered—only her forehead remained visible. Just as Ruan Mianmian said, one more slip and her eyes would disappear entirely.
“Ah! Your Highness!”
Fangcao looked up and gasped when she saw Lin Zhuo quietly standing in the doorway.
The room erupted into chaos—like a flock of startled birds. After much scrambling, all the maids dropped to their knees before him, trembling like quails.
Ruan Mianmian rose from the couch, walked over, and gave a graceful bow with a bright smile.
“What brings Your Highness here? I thought court matters kept you busy these days. I was just wondering if you’d have time tomorrow to accompany me back to my family home.”
“What’s going on here?” Lin Zhuo frowned, glancing at the trembling maids. “Frolicking in broad daylight? Since when did the Prince Xiang’s residence become so unruly?”
Not allowed to play in the daytime? Should they wait until night? What kind of activity does he think this is?
Ruan Mianmian curled her lips inwardly but kept a cheerful smile.
“Your Highness, it was I who told them to play. I like lively surroundings. Seeing them stand around silent all day made me feel stifled.”
Lin Zhuo glared at her. Ruan Mianmian met his gaze openly.
“Well… I know my place, Your Highness. Surely you wouldn’t quibble over something this small? It’s my courtyard, after all.”
There was a peculiar tone in her words, but Lin Zhuo understood the meaning beneath them. He snorted coldly.
“So that’s why even the doorkeepers are all inside as well?”
“It’s freezing out. No one’s coming by anyway—why let them stand outside and freeze? If you don’t believe me, go try standing in the yard yourself. You’ll be chilled through in half a quarter-hour. Have you heard that wind howl? It’s hardly merciful.”
Lin Zhuo glanced at the two young maids still kneeling nearby. They were indeed frail and thin.
Then Ruan Mianmian said gently, “Your Highness, please have mercy. Let them rise. If they ruin their knees kneeling, won’t it be my fault?”
“Get up,” Lin Zhuo said coolly.
The maids scrambled to their feet as if granted amnesty.
When the two door girls made to leave, Ruan Mianmian quickly stopped them. “Stay by the door inside. If you hear movement, then go out—it’s not too late.”
“You’re being too lenient. This is their duty,” Lin Zhuo said, though his tone had softened a little as he sat down on the couch.
Ruan Mianmian, ever eager to please, personally poured him tea and had Fangcao bring fruit and pastries. Then she sat opposite him with a grin.
“What duty is so sacred? They’re people too—born to parents like everyone else. When I lived in the countryside, my mother never let me go out in this kind of weather either.”
“The prince’s residence is not the countryside. What if noble ladies come visiting one day?” Lin Zhuo said, trying to correct her overly egalitarian view.
“Which lady would come unannounced without sending a visiting post first? They can step out then. If it’s someone within the residence—like Sister Bai—I doubt she’d make a fuss. She knows discretion. Family matters shouldn’t be aired outside, after all.”
Even someone as steady as Lin Zhuo couldn’t help but laugh in disbelief.
“So you do know this isn’t proper etiquette.”
“Of course. Just a little improper,” Ruan Mianmian said, pinching her fingers together to indicate something tiny. “Your Highness, have a bit of compassion, won’t you?”
“Fine. I’ll overlook the maids for now. But what about the sparrows filling your courtyard?”
Lin Zhuo was genuinely puzzled. Could his countryside-born princess truly command birds? Was she some kind of phoenix?
“The sparrows? They flew here, naturally. Do you think I caught them one by one? Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t.”
Ruan Mianmian spread her hands, then realized what he meant.
“Ah—you’re asking why they gathered here, right? Well, this afternoon before the wind picked up, I went for a walk in the back garden and saw the gardener collecting wild grasses. I got playful and helped Fangcao and the others strip the grass seeds. We filled two big bags of them. On the way back, I thought, the sparrows must be hungry this time of year, so I scattered the seeds in the courtyard. Sure enough, those little things all came.”
Lin Zhuo was speechless.
“What sense does that make? There are grass seeds in the back garden—why don’t the sparrows eat those? Why only the ones you scattered here? Do you season yours or something?”
Ruan Mianmian burst out laughing. “If my courtyard grew condiments, would I let the sparrows eat them first?”
She chuckled. “I asked the gardener about it too—why there were so many seeds in the back but no birds. He said wild cats often wander the rear garden, so the sparrows don’t dare go there.”
“There are wild cats?” Lin Zhuo was dumbfounded. “I had no idea my residence had become a zoo. The rear garden is tended daily—are the servants eating for nothing?”
(End of Chapter)