In the dead of night, a sudden burst of crying and thrashing was always disruptive to a peaceful sleep. It might even startle the whole pox-avoidance quarters into thinking the newly-woken Eleventh Prince had taken a turn for the worse.
Yin Cheng felt he’d barely fallen asleep at all before being jolted awake by shouting right beside him. He turned his head and immediately found the culprit, the girl he’d assumed was mute was, in fact, talking in her sleep. Outside, people were already rushing this way in alarm.
Tsk, tsk, what a mess this was turning into.
Listen to what she was even shouting about.
Before Xiaohai and the others arrived, Yin Cheng quietly turned onto his side, pricking up his ears, fully prepared to eavesdrop on her sleep-talking in good conscience.
“…let, let me out, don’t, don’t lock me, hic, lock me in here.”
Her words came out broken and choppy, laced with a crying tone.
Yin Cheng craned his neck further, but still couldn’t make heads or tails of what she meant. In plain terms, he simply couldn’t understand her speech at all.
Could it be that the Mandarin spoken by Han people in the south was different from his own? Otherwise, this little girl clearly could speak, why wouldn’t she open her mouth normally? If the truth was that he simply couldn’t understand her from start to finish, that would explain things well enough.
Being new here and not yet having a full grasp of the situation, it was always wiser to be cautious.
“Young Master, Young Master?” Xiaohai burst through the door in a panic. “Young Master, are you all right?” He rushed straight toward the bed.
“I’m fine. Watch your feet, don’t step on the person on the floor.” The moment Yin Cheng finished speaking, he noticed how badly hoarse his own voice sounded.
“Young Master, why does your voice sound like that? Don’t worry, I’m being careful, I won’t step on Miss Jinzi.” As Xiaohai spoke, he lit a candle, and once the light gradually filled the room, he could finally see what was going on.
His young master was lying on his side, seemingly fine at first glance, but his hand was clutching at his throat, as though in distress. Recalling the voice he’d heard a moment ago, Xiaohai rushed over at once.
Along the way, he had to pass by the bedding where Zhao Xiaojin slept, the little girl still crying out in her sleep. Without much courtesy, he gave the blanket a light kick, you want to sleep, then sleep, quit making a racket!
Yin Cheng watched Xiaohai’s little gesture but was powerless to stop him, it was as if that single sentence a moment ago had drained him of all his strength. Right now, not only did his throat hurt terribly, even breathing had become difficult.
His nose felt blocked, and though his mouth was clearly open, it was as if some invisible barrier had wrapped around him entirely. Like a fish out of water, doomed to die on the shore in the end.
“Young Master, Young Master!” Xiaohai noticed the Eleventh Prince’s face had gone an unnatural shade of red, just a moment ago there had been nothing to see, and in the blink of an eye, it had flushed deep red, with not even the strength left to speak.
He tried to help the young master sit up, a motion he was well used to performing, but today the young master felt heavy as a thousand pounds, he simply couldn’t manage to prop him up.
Damned useless servants!
With all this commotion, even the dead should have crawled over by now!
Xiaohai took a deep breath, about to shout loudly toward the door for help, but as he turned his head, he caught sight of the person on the floor, thrashing wildly at the blanket.
Well, wasn’t this one a little troublemaker too! Kicked once and still didn’t wake up, still yelling away.
Wait, wasn’t she—
He quickly set his young master back down and spun around to kneel by Zhao Xiaojin. With no time to spare a glance at her tear-streaked face, he simply rolled her up in the blanket and carried her, blanket and all, straight onto the young master’s bed.
“Young Master, forgive the intrusion.” Then, with a tug, he pulled the blanket away, sending the little girl inside tumbling and rolling to the far side of the bed, several body-lengths away from his young master.
That wouldn’t do at all.
And so, under Yin Cheng’s helpless glare, and with Zhao Xiaojin oblivious to it all, still crying in her sleep, Xiaohai went ahead and arranged the two of them lying side by side. In the end, feeling something was still missing, he even had the audacity to pull half of Yin Cheng’s own blanket over to cover Zhao Xiaojin.
“You. Have. Some. Nerve.” Yin Cheng watched Xiaohai bustling about on his own initiative, enduring the broken sobbing right beside his ear, and felt as though he’d been transported back to his days at the Eastern Five Houses.
Back then, when he’d first moved into the Five Houses to live alone, his mother, uneasy about it, had people watching over him constantly. Those palace attendants, wanting an easy time of it, had simply kept him from getting out of bed at all, handling all his eating and bodily needs right there on the bed.
Perhaps at first they hadn’t been so blatant about it. But eventually, things had drifted to the point where he lay in bed unable to move, and even when he tried to call for help, he was watched too closely to manage it.
Fortunately, not long after, Yin Xiang had moved in as well.
The Eastern Five Houses was a three-courtyard compound, he occupied the main hall, while Yin Xiang stayed in the rear half of the courtyard. Every day, coming and going, Yin Xiang would stop by to check on him. And it was precisely through those visits that the servants’ scheming laziness had come to light, which was part of why he’d grown so thin.
His mother had flown into a towering rage and replaced every single attendant. That was when Xiaohai had come to his side, only two years older than himself.
What Xiaohai was doing now was exactly the same thing those old palace attendants used to do. Even though Yin Cheng knew perfectly well that Xiaohai meant well.
“Young Master, forgive me. Xiaohai truly didn’t know what else to do. The physician hasn’t arrived yet, perhaps Miss Jinzi… Young Master?” Xiaohai, kneeling by the bed, had originally been letting Yin Cheng stare him down, but partway through his sentence, he suddenly snapped to attention.
His young master had spoken. Although his voice lacked strength, at least his breathing had eased.
Looking closer, wasn’t his color already much better than a moment ago?
Afraid he’d misjudged it, Xiaohai nearly pressed his whole face right up against him to check.
Fortunately, the palace attendants arrived just then, along with the physician.
Because the situation had erupted suddenly and it was the middle of the night, everyone in the room, including Xiaohai who’d arrived first, had no coverings over their faces. So when the group entering first saw the Eleventh Prince lying on the bed, and beside him a little girl lying there with tears still on her face, the expressions on their faces were something to behold.
By this point, Zhao Xiaojin had stopped crying out, though the tears she’d shed hadn’t yet dried, making her look as if she’d cried herself to sleep.
The physician reacted fastest. Seeing that the Eleventh Prince’s color now looked healthy, and noticing the crowd standing around staring at him with visible displeasure, he spoke up to smooth things over.
“The young master was simply having a nightmare. He’ll be fine once he settles down.”
“But…” Xiaohai wasn’t satisfied with this explanation and was about to press further, but a single look from the physician stopped him cold.
“That’s enough, there’s nothing more for the rest of you to do here. Everyone out.” Clearly, he’d understood the physician’s meaning, and sent the others away first.
Once the unnecessary people had left, the physician weighed his words carefully before broaching the matter, somewhat delicately.
“The young master’s body hasn’t fully recovered yet. He mustn’t overexert himself.” As he said “overexert,” he made a point of glancing over at the little girl beside them. “Please rest easy, Young Master, a few more days of recovery and you’ll be fine.”
“Young Master, are you truly all right?” After seeing the physician off, Xiaohai still wasn’t at ease, and decided to keep watch himself.
Yin Cheng himself couldn’t be entirely certain his body was truly fine, but he’d understood the physician’s implication well enough. Nothing more than the assumption that he’d been carrying on foolishly in the middle of the night and made the little girl cry.
But heaven and earth as his witness, he hadn’t done a single thing.
Even if he’d wanted to do something, setting aside that his body wasn’t up to it right now, even if it were, he’d never lay a hand on a girl this young. Back at the Five Houses, his mother had granted him two experienced palace maids, and he’d treated them as mere furniture the whole time.
“Your young master here is perfectly fine.” Finally recovered, Yin Cheng felt somewhat unsettled by this whole baffling episode of being unable to move.
The physician couldn’t find a cause, and had confirmed there was nothing wrong with his body, so he ought to have felt at ease. Yet, though he didn’t believe in gods or spirits, something about the whole thing felt uncanny, a person sleeping peacefully, merely turning over after being disturbed, and somehow feeling like he was about to die?
And of all things, the moment Xiaohai had carried the little girl up onto the bed, he’d escaped death’s grip entirely?
“Good, that’s good.” Having gotten Yin Cheng’s confirmation, Xiaohai finally let out a long breath.
“All right, enough commotion for one night, go get some rest.” Yin Cheng decided not to dwell on it further for now, feeling a long-absent drowsiness finally setting in.
“Young Master, please sleep, please sleep, Xiaohai will keep watch.” Xiaohai stepped back, then came forward again to tuck the blanket corners in around Yin Cheng, before going to blow out the candle once more.
As for himself, he made do settling onto the step-stool at the foot of the young master’s bed.
The next morning, Zhao Xiaojin knew she was about to wake up.
She reached out of habit to feel the blanket, warm and soft, so comfortable. She really didn’t want to get out of bed, but she still had school today. She was her teacher’s good, obedient student, she couldn’t afford to be late.
Zhao Xiaojin opened her eyes, only to find an unfamiliar ceiling above the bed.
“You’re awake?” Came a voice, very, very close beside her.
Where was this? Oh, right, she wasn’t home anymore. But hadn’t she been sleeping on the floor last night?
Zhao Xiaojin sat up, clutching most of the blanket to herself, and saw the little monk sitting propped against the headboard right beside her. Her eyes were full of confusion, but there was none of the panic a little girl would normally feel upon waking to find herself in a strange man’s bed.
Yin Cheng had rarely gotten such a solid night’s sleep, and was in good spirits.
He found himself curious now about this little girl of murky origins, wasn’t it said that women raised in the south valued their reputation above all, no matter their age? Could it be she simply didn’t take him seriously, seeing how frail and thin he was?
Given that neither of them could understand the other’s speech, he needed to find some way to communicate with her.
He had an idea! Yin Cheng reached out and pulled forward the long braid hanging in front of Zhao Xiaojin.
“Do you recognize this character? Shòu.” He pointed at the red longevity-character knot on it.
“Shòu?” Zhao Xiaojin echoed the sound, her voice sounding perfectly obedient.
She recognized this character, it was the traditional form of “shòu,” meaning longevity. Was the little monk trying to teach her to speak? The single syllable sounded roughly like the character she knew, but the more Zhao Xiaojin repeated it in her head, the stranger it started to sound.
“Right, shòu, shòu.” Yin Cheng, believing he’d found the right approach, pointed at himself. “Yìn Chéng, Yìn, Chéng.” Then he pronounced his own name syllable by syllable.
“…Chéng?” Unfortunately, Zhao Xiaojin was still dwelling on the character “shòu” and reacted a beat too slow, only catching the last syllable clearly.
She pointed at Yin Cheng and mouthed silently: “Is that right?”
When Xiaohai came in, his young master was sitting cross-legged, facing Miss Jinzi on the bed, both of them gesturing at something with their hands. The two of them looked so engrossed that he couldn’t bear to interrupt.
“Young Master, it’s time for your meal.” But the meal still needed to be eaten, after all.
Also, Miss Jinzi’s manners and etiquette needed to be taught properly, otherwise, once she entered the palace, any slip-up might be seized on by someone and used to blame the young master.
Xiaohai was thinking rather too much into it.
Whatever hidden merits Miss Jinzi might have, last night’s events, the young master escaping danger twice now, both times had something to do with her. That alone was reason enough for Xiaohai to take her seriously. After all, it was simply a fact that his young master’s constitution was weak.
“All right, let’s eat first.” Yin Cheng felt entirely at ease in that moment, his voice coming out a bit louder than usual.
He made a particular point of emphasizing the word “meal,” and during the meal itself, he didn’t observe the usual rule of not speaking while eating. On the contrary, he introduced every single dish to her, and if Zhao Xiaojin hadn’t genuinely struggled to remember them all, he would have kept right on talking.
While this cozy little scene played out here, Consort Yi at Changchun Garden received word that morning of what had happened at the pox-avoidance quarters overnight, and was not the least bit pleased.