When they arrived at Anlexuan, several old servant women and young wives were seen coming and going through the side room. Two of them looked particularly pale, carrying baskets in their arms and muttering something under their breath.
Xile waved a hand in front of his nose, puzzled. “Strange—why does this courtyard smell so muddy?”
The two servant women, hearing someone speak, quickly looked up, dropped their baskets, and came forward to bow. Lin Zhuo gave them a calm glance, then motioned toward the baskets with his chin. “What’s in there?”
“It’s the princess consort,” one of them explained nervously. “For some reason, Her Ladyship got into a mood today and ordered us to dig up some soil from the back garden. She piled it up on the kang in the side room.”
The other woman quickly added, “Your Highness, you’re about to enter the main room. Be careful not to be overcome by the muddy smell. This servant will ask Miss Xiahe to burn some incense for you right away…”
“No need.” Lin Zhuo glanced at the baskets. “You two aren’t used to this kind of work, are you?”
“We’re not used to it, but we can learn. What matters most is that the princess consort is happy. Seeing her enjoy herself makes us happy too.”
Lin Zhuo’s lips curved faintly. “Rare to see such enthusiasm for learning. Very well. The prince’s residence isn’t the right place for that kind of study. Xile, tell Steward Yang to send them to the manor tomorrow so they can learn properly.”
How dare they act up in front of him. Though Mianmian was born in a farming family, as the princess consort she was now the mistress, a person of high status. For two insolent old servants to speak in such a veiled, mocking tone—letting them live was already his mercy.
“Yes, Your Highness.”
Xile responded obediently, though he shook his head inwardly. Honestly—three years since the prince established his household, and people still thought they could play tricks in front of him? As expected, now that there were two mistresses in the rear court, things had started to get lively.
After quietly dealing with the two servants, Lin Zhuo entered the side room. He saw Ruan Mianmian dressed in a rough set of ill-fitting coarse cloth garments, kneeling on the kang and hugging a large burlap sack. She was saying loudly, “You wouldn’t let me spread the soil because it’s dirty and ‘unbefitting of my station.’ But surely I can at least handle the sweet potatoes, right? What, I worked this hard just to amuse you all? I don’t even get to touch them myself?”
“Your Ladyship, please spare us. What kind of amusement is this? We were only forced into it—we couldn’t let you dirty your hands.”
Only Fangcao, her dowry maid, would dare to talk back like that. The other maids just nodded in agreement, too focused on trying to dissuade her to notice that Lin Zhuo was already standing at the doorway.
“Don’t make it sound so terrible. It’s not like I’m killing or robbing anyone. So what if my hands get dirty? I can just wash them after! Enough talking—there’s not much left to do. I’ll handle the rest. You girls can go heat water for my bath.”
“Your Ladyship, it’s just sweet potatoes. I can arrange them for you. You can watch from the side, and if I do it wrong, just tell me—I’ll fix it,” Yingchun said with a soft smile.
But Ruan Mianmian looked utterly impatient. “No. You don’t understand what this bag of sweet potatoes means. I must cultivate them with my own hands, plant them myself, and come autumn, harvest them personally—then open a new world for the prince!”
Everyone: “…”
Lin Zhuo had always been a man who hid his emotions so deeply that he often appeared cold, but this time, he almost burst out laughing. His princess consort really could brag—open a new world for him? Anyone listening might think she planned to ascend to the heavens and take him along.
“Your Ladyship, please give up this idea. I absolutely can’t allow you to dirty your hands, or I won’t be able to answer to His Highness.”Fangcao held tightly to the other end of the burlap sack, looking resolute.
“Have you forgotten? You’re my dowry maid, which means you belong to my camp. You don’t have the same ‘status advantages’ as Yingchun, Xiahe, Qiuxiang, or Dongxue. Want to switch sides? You should first ask if His Highness even wants you.”
“Um… may I ask, what does ‘switch sides’ mean?” came a dry cough and an amused voice from behind.
“It means she used to stand on my wall, but now she dares to climb over to—”
Her voice froze mid-sentence as she stiffly turned her neck, inch by inch, to see Lin Zhuo standing there. Words squeezed out from between her lips with difficulty:“Your… Your Highness… why… didn’t you… give some warning before coming?”
“If I’d warned you, how would I get to see such a show?” Lin Zhuo rolled his eyes, stepped forward, and casually pushed aside the sack, revealing a pile of reddish tubers. “These are the sweet potatoes? What’s all the fuss about?”
Ruan Mianmian immediately brightened. “Your Highness doesn’t understand—these sweet potatoes have an incredibly high yield! I wanted to cultivate some sprouts for you. But the maids wouldn’t let me do anything, saying it wasn’t proper. Outrageous! Am I not your princess consort? The mistress of this courtyard?”
The maids, Fangcao included, nearly burst into tears. The dignified princess consort was actually tattling before they could even defend themselves—how were they supposed to survive this?
“Unacceptable,” Lin Zhuo said sternly, pretending to scowl. “Since when do servants dictate what their mistress can do? Every one of the maids in this room—twenty strokes each, then throw them out of the residence.”
“Ah?”
Ruan Mianmian froze, instantly revealing her paper-tiger nature. As cries of “Mercy, Your Highness!” filled the room, she spread her arms protectively like a mother hen shielding her chicks. “Your Highness, I was just joking—don’t take it so seriously!”
“You’re the princess consort. How can you speak carelessly? Don’t worry, once they’re gone, I’ll find you new attendants. Three-legged toads are rare, but two-legged servants? They’re everywhere.”
“That’s unreasonable!” she burst out. Damn this feudal society! Look at this royal arrogance—no amount of divine looks could hide that ugly, tyrannical streak.
Furious, Ruan Mianmian raised her voice. “Only the emperor’s word is law! I’m just a woman—a woman’s heart is a needle lost in the sea. I can’t even make a joke? And besides, what’s wrong with servants? Weren’t they born to parents, too? They’re also someone’s beloved children. Just because fate made them servants, does that mean they deserve to be treated like dirt? Your Highness, I… I don’t like this about you. You care for the people of the world—why can’t you care for these servants? Aren’t they people too? Aren’t they part of that same world?”
In the noble circles of the capital, perhaps only his princess consort would dare speak so boldly for servants. Many claimed to care about “the common people,” but the words never reached their eyes—and when turned away, they’d destroy lives without a thought.
As Lin Zhuo thought this, something in his chest softened.
When he saw her eyes brimming with tears—still trembling, yet stubbornly shielding the maids—he took out a handkerchief and gently wiped the corners of her eyes. Then, in a deep voice, he said to Fangcao and the others,“You all heard what the princess consort said. You saw how she stood before you. I expect you to remember her words—and this image of her standing here. To serve such a mistress is your blessing.”
(End of Chapter)