Ever since that trip to the Imperial Workshop, Zhao Xiaojin had grown quite confident about getting the glass made.
She sat with her brush, sketching out, one by one, all the common glass objects she remembered, beyond the window panes and the oil lamp chimney, she also drew glass jars for storage, glass cups for drinking water, and more, a fair number of items both large and small.
Seeing her thoroughly absorbed in it, Yin Cheng let Wang Xiaohai finish delivering his report in a low voice before dismissing him.
Back at Changchun Garden, his father had already set the date for the return to the palace, the twelfth of the ninth month, only a few days away.
Once that day came, the entire palace would be full again. The Empress Dowager at Ci’ren Palace, Consort Hui at Yanxi Palace, his own mother Consort Yi at Yikun Palace, Consort De at Yonghe Palace, Consort Tong at Chengqian Palace, the consort at Xianfu Palace, Consort Duan at Qixiang Palace, Consort Xi at Changchun Palace, plus all the princes of the Eastern and Western Five Houses, it was bound to get lively.
This also meant it was time to catch his secondary consort up on palace etiquette. Before, she could simply stay tucked away in the Five Houses without going out, and with no one to run into, etiquette hardly mattered. But after Eunuch Liang’s gentle warning, he now knew that plenty of people in the palace were quite curious about his secondary consort, and might well summon her over for a chat whenever they had a free moment.
And then there was his mother, utterly unavoidable.
If his father ultimately failed to uncover anything about his secondary consort’s true origins, he might just as easily go along with letting the palace deal with her according to its own rules, and his secondary consort could well be gone within days.
Perhaps Yin Cheng was getting ahead of himself, but it was still a real possibility. So, while there was still a bit of time left, he figured he’d better start preparing her now.
Zhao Xiaojin didn’t expect the little monk to have prepared such a big surprise for her.
“Can you even walk in these shoes?” Were they anything like the high heels she’d worn back when dancing?
She examined the newly delivered shoes, what had previously been perfectly comfortable soft-soled shoes now had a horseshoe-shaped heel attached underneath, positioned right in the middle of the sole, much like the kind she’d seen in period dramas.
Touching it, it felt fairly hard, but not heavy, probably wood, wrapped in thick fabric on the outside. The fabric itself was densely embroidered with the characters for “blessing” and “longevity.”
“In this palace, only maidservants go without raised-sole shoes. The palace consorts, the princes’ wives, and the princesses, they all wear shoes like this.” Yin Cheng watched his secondary consort’s eyes carefully, making sure she was taking it in before continuing.
“You need to remember, no one in this palace can be trusted, no matter who. Because the very person who was just laughing and joking with you might turn on you the moment they walk away.” And the outcome of falling out of favor almost always ended the same way.
No one in the palace mentioned Consort An or Consort Jing anymore, women who, over a decade ago, had been at the height of their glory. Back in the sixteenth year, when his father conducted his great investiture of the harem, they’d ranked as the very top consorts, the current four consorts, Hui, Yi, De, and Rong, had all ranked below them.
“Not even you?” Zhao Xiaojin asked. The little monk sounded so grave about it that she, holding one of the shoes in her hand, no longer felt much like trying them on at all.
“…You brought me back to life. I’ll always look out for you, as best I can. But there may come a time when I simply can’t protect you.” Yin Cheng told the truth.
In all his years, he’d never felt as genuinely alive as he had these past weeks. Walking, moving, eating, drinking, things everyone else took for granted from birth, he was only now truly experiencing them, in the flesh.
But he’d grown up in this palace, after all, and he knew his own place well enough by now.
Although he was a prince, luckier in his birth than most, in his father’s eyes he’d only recently even become worth acknowledging by name, and that wasn’t necessarily a good thing. His mother had borne three sons: his Fifth Brother had been raised by the Empress Dowager from infancy, his Ninth Brother by Consort Hui, while he himself had been sent off to Consort De’s Yonghe Palace.
Everyone said Consort De of Yonghe Palace was beautiful and kind-hearted, but he knew what kind of scheming lay behind that beauty and kindness. Some words he’d overheard by accident as a child still stuck with him to this day. Because of it, he’d fallen ill at Yonghe Palace for a full two years straight.
Within the palace, when he was alone, he could occasionally let his guard down a little, no one bothered targeting him. But now, with a secondary consort by his side, one formally registered with his father, no less, the situation had changed entirely.
Just as Eunuch Liang had said, the palace was full of loose tongues, and their movements these past weeks had already been noticed by plenty of eyes. If anyone truly intended to act against them, neither he at twelve nor his secondary consort at ten would be able to withstand it.
“So as long as I don’t make any mistakes, I’ll be fine?” Zhao Xiaojin set the shoe down. “Then I just won’t go out anymore. I’ll stay right here.”
Yin Cheng watched his secondary consort’s whole spirit deflate right in front of him, wilting visibly.
“Tell me who you really are. If you tell me the truth, I’ll go beg Father, beg him to spare you.” Unable to bear seeing her like this, he impulsively grabbed both her arms and blurted it all out in one breath.
Zhao Xiaojin winced at the sudden pain of his grip, struggling a bit, but couldn’t break free.
What was the little monk saying? Asking who she really was? Hadn’t the people who’d brought her here already looked into it?
“That eunuch, I mean, the eunuch who bought me, didn’t he tell you?”
“You mean Li Rongjing?” Yin Cheng realized there’d been a serious misunderstanding somewhere. He released his grip on his secondary consort’s arms, pulling his hands back with a trace of guilt.
“I don’t know his name. That day, I was locked in a dark little room, and I heard a lot of people arrive outside. Not long after, that woman came in, changed my clothes, and put me on a carriage. After that, I ended up wherever you were.” Zhao Xiaojin told the truth as she knew it.
Why hadn’t that woman ever mentioned locking her up in the first place!
“Before that, how did you end up at that woman’s house? Did she capture you?” Now that they were finally speaking openly, Yin Cheng went through everything he knew, piece by piece.
“Before that?” Zhao Xiaojin faltered for a moment, she genuinely didn’t know how she’d ended up here herself. “I don’t know. When I came to my senses, I was already on that road.”
Yin Cheng pulled his secondary consort down to sit beside him, taking a moment to steady himself too.
“You remember having a little brother at home, do you remember where your home actually is?”
My home is right by the Qiantang River, but she couldn’t say that. Zhao Xiaojin wasn’t foolish, and quickly realized what was going on. Was the little monk suddenly asking all this because he’d already begun to suspect her? There was no time to think it over carefully, so she answered with a mix of truth and fiction.
“Where I’m from, there are very tall buildings, much taller than the walls outside here. I remember that day I was waiting for a car, and when I looked up, I found myself somewhere unfamiliar, with no one around at all.” She spoke slowly, gesturing roughly at the height of a tall building.
“Buildings that tall, taller than the palace walls?” Could such a place even exist?
Yin Cheng couldn’t picture it, he’d never seen anything like that.
“Yes, incredibly tall. If you stood up there and looked down, the people walking below would look like tiny black dots, look away for even a moment and you’d lose track of them entirely.” Everything she said was true.
“Then, this oil lamp you wanted made, this glass for the windows, are those customs from where you’re from?” Yin Cheng, still unable to picture such heights, a living person reduced to a tiny black dot!, switched to a different question.
“No, no, no one uses oil lamps anymore where I’m from. The lamps we use run on, run on—” Zhao Xiaojin got stuck. What exactly did those lamps run on again?
She clearly knew the answer, so why couldn’t she get the words out, now that they were right on the tip of her tongue?
“What’s wrong?” Yin Cheng watched his secondary consort, who’d been speaking perfectly fine a moment ago, now sitting with her mouth open, unable to get a single word out.
Zhao Xiaojin looked at the little monk, and very quickly felt herself drifting away.
“Someone, come quick!” Yin Cheng watched as the person sitting calmly beside him suddenly tilted, falling backward.
There was nothing behind her, just empty floor.
He lunged to catch her, only to end up dragging himself down along with her.
By the time Wang Xiaohai and Ajiu rushed in, what they found was the Eleventh Prince lying on the floor, his secondary consort cradled in his arms. The Eleventh Prince winced in pain, while his secondary consort lay completely unconscious.
“Physician, how is she?” Ajiu had followed him out.
After the earlier commotion, the Five Houses had finally settled down. At first, everyone had assumed the Eleventh Prince had taken another turn for the worse. No one had expected this time it would be the secondary consort in trouble.
“Young lady, the secondary consort hasn’t woken yet, and there are some things this old physician simply cannot confirm without her being conscious. From what I can tell, there are signs she may not be adjusting well to the local climate and water.” The elderly physician, familiar with the Five Houses, knew far less about this secondary consort he’d only just met.
“Then in your judgment, when will the secondary consort wake up?” Although she didn’t seem to be faking, it did seem odd that she’d fainted right at that particular moment in the conversation.
Ajiu, having spent several years working as an informant in the Yuhang region, was naturally suspicious of both people and events. Things that looked genuine could well be fabricated.
And indeed, she did suspect the secondary consort might be putting this on.
“Sleep for about half a day, and she should come around. Also, the secondary consort should be eating more, her pulse showed some signs of weakness.”
“Many thanks, physician. Safe travels.” Ajiu saw the physician off, then went back inside to check before promptly leaving the Five Houses.
Inside, Wang Xiaohai was busy running back and forth.
“Young Master, you really should think of your own body, you’re not even taller than the secondary consort, yet you go throwing yourself into some heroic rescue like that? And now look, the secondary consort doesn’t even know what you did. Meanwhile, you’re the one left aching and suffering for it.”
Since the bed had been given over to his secondary consort, Yin Cheng was currently lying face-down on the couch, letting Wang Xiaohai massage the spot on his back where he’d taken the impact.
“My secondary consort is young, if she’d gotten hurt from a fall, it would’ve stayed with her for life. A few days of soreness on my part is nothing.”
“It matters plenty. You’re a prince, precious beyond measure, nowhere near comparable to a secondary consort. Young Master, next time you and the secondary consort need to talk about something, let Xiaohai stay nearby. You know Xiaohai keeps his mouth shut.” If he’d been there at the time, there’d have been no way the young master himself would’ve ended up as the cushion.
“All right, all right, that’s enough.” Yin Cheng waved him off, not wanting any more of the massage, it only hurt more the harder he pressed.
“It’s not enough. The physician said the bruise on your back needs to be worked out properly, or you’ll be in real pain for days to come.” Wang Xiaohai wouldn’t budge, not easing up on his hands one bit.
“Xiaohai, you’ve kept an eye on my secondary consort’s meals these past weeks, do you really think someone eating that much could still be weak from hunger?” Yin Cheng, not wanting to argue further, brought up what he’d overheard from Ajiu and the physician instead, putting the question to Wang Xiaohai.
“That, Xiaohai wouldn’t know. But if the physician says so, then it means the secondary consort hasn’t been eating enough, and has been going hungry every day.” No wonder someone so young had already grown taller than the young master himself.
“Going hungry, why wouldn’t she just say something?” Yin Cheng muttered to himself, annoyed he hadn’t noticed sooner.
On the bed, Zhao Xiaojin, drifting in a hazy sleep, found herself, strangely, back in her school’s laboratory. Inside, a class was in the middle of a lab session, the topic being how a small light bulb worked.