“Li Rongjing, go yourself and tell Wang Xiaohai this. Tell him this is my order: starting today, all the night-watch duties in the Eleventh Prince’s room are his responsibility, and his alone.”
At the head of the room, Consort Yi fanned herself steadily with a fan she’d just snatched from someone else’s hands. The moment she’d heard the news from the Eleventh Prince’s quarters, she’d begun to seethe.
“Yes, Your Ladyship. And… what about that little girl?” How should she be dealt with? After all, she’d been brought in earlier under the pretext of countering bad luck through marriage, and Her Ladyship had just granted her the title of secondary consort.
“That Jinzi? In consideration of the favor she’s done me, I granted her the title of secondary consort, so let her keep to her proper place as one. Barely more than a child, and already scheming to seduce a man, no surprise, coming from the south.”
Consort Yi was thoroughly unimpressed by this.
Still, her son needed the girl for now, so she didn’t dare deal with her too rashly. And truth be told, there was even some good news buried in this, at the very least, her son had come into his own, which pleased her. Once they returned to the palace, once her son had a taste of those two experienced palace maids, he’d stop fixating on some scrawny, dull little girl.
For now, then, let it be. What was done was done, but there absolutely could not be a second time, not before her son had fully recovered.
Li Rongjing set off once more for the pox-avoidance quarters, carrying Consort Yi’s words.
He simply couldn’t wrap his head around it, how could such a timid girl have done something so improper? The good fortune she’d only just landed had very nearly been thrown away entirely.
Just like last time, Li Rongjing wasn’t granted an audience with the Eleventh Prince. He waited patiently for that boy Wang Xiaohai to come out, determined to lay out his warnings in careful detail this time, so as to avoid any further slip-ups.
“What? Who’s been spreading such nonsense?!” On the other side of the wall, Wang Xiaohai, hearing Eunuch Li’s questioning, exploded immediately.
“Who’s so shameless as to spread words like that?! My young master had a nightmare last night, he could barely move at all, where would he have found the energy for anything else! And as for Miss Jinzi, she’d only just arrived, simply had a bad dream that night, she was sleeping on the floor bedding the whole time!”
Xiaohai was furious. Who in the world was slandering his young master like this?!
“Eunuch Li, you must go back and tell Her Ladyship this. I, Xiaohai, was the very first one into the room after I heard the commotion, I saw with my own eyes exactly what was happening inside. Whoever’s been spreading this story clearly has bad intentions, and might well be trying to harm my young master!”
The young master already carried the reputation of being sickly. If word got around that he’d been carrying on improperly while ill on top of that, His Majesty would surely come to look down on him.
“All right, all right, no need to shout.” On the other side of the wall, Li Rongjing had by now more or less pieced together what had actually happened in the Eleventh Prince’s room last night. Her Ladyship’s anger that morning had been for nothing.
Now that things had been made clear, and the whole matter had been fabricated out of thin air, that was good news. As for the rest, naturally, Li Rongjing himself would step in and get to the bottom of it.
Words like that didn’t just appear out of nowhere.
He exchanged a few more words with Wang Xiaohai about Miss Jinzi’s situation, especially the fact that Her Ladyship had just granted her the title of secondary consort.
“Secondary consort?” Wang Xiaohai muttered to himself as he walked back inside.
He couldn’t quite fathom what had prompted Consort Yi to grant Miss Jinzi that title at this particular moment. And with those vile rumors about the young master’s room spreading around this very morning, of all times, it practically looked as if Consort Yi had granted the title afterward, just to smooth things over.
“Secondary consort?!” The book in Yin Cheng’s hands dropped into his lap with a thud.
Zhao Xiaojin, watching from beside him, looked at him with some concern. The little monk had been in good spirits today, after his meal, he’d moved over to sit by the window in the sun, and had even brought out a book to help her practice reading characters. In just that little while, she’d already picked out several she recognized, and was busy memorizing their pronunciations.
What were they talking about? The little monk was reacting so strongly.
“Did you make sure Li Rongjing understood exactly what happened last night?” Yin Cheng asked Wang Xiaohai, though he was looking at Zhao Xiaojin. “Xiaojin, go pour some water.” As he spoke, he made a pouring gesture.
“Okay.” Zhao Xiaojin was sent off.
“Young Master, this kind of slander against you, of course Xiaohai went and set Eunuch Li straight on it. Rest assured, whoever’s been spreading this talk won’t get away with it.” As Wang Xiaohai spoke, a vicious look crept over his face.
“Word’s been spreading for a while now, I’d imagine anyone who wanted to know already knows. Even if you track down whoever started the rumor and they confess, the fact remains, this idea that I, the Eleventh Prince, was carrying on shamefully while ill, will still have left its mark. And on top of that, with my mother involved as well…” Ah, it really was all piling up at once.
“There’s also this, last month, Consort Ping of the Chuxiu Palace passed away, and by custom, we’re still meant to observe the mourning restrictions for the hundred days after.” Yin Cheng watched Zhao Xiaojin busy at her tasks not far off. Although he himself stood no real chance at the throne, he had at least made it through this endless cycle of dying and waking again, he ought to start planning ahead for the days to come.
Better not to trip up over some small matter like this.
He said it lightly, but Wang Xiaohai, listening beside him, was consumed with self-blame.
A matter like this should have been his to worry about, there was no need for it to weigh on the young master’s mind at all. Last night, in his panic, he hadn’t stopped to think about the expressions on the faces of the servants who’d rushed into the room.
He’d been too careless, thinking that once outside the palace, there was no need for such vigilance. A lesson learned, and one he intended to remember.
“There’s no need to blame yourself. We’ve been out of the palace for nearly a month now. I’ve died and come back who knows how many times over that span, you can’t be faulted for not having the bandwidth to think of everything else.” Yin Cheng offered him some comfort. “Enough of that, go lend a hand to your secondary consort, otherwise I won’t be getting my tea anytime soon.”
“Young Master, I—” Wang Xiaohai had more to say.
“Go on, go on.” But Yin Cheng didn’t want to hear it.
Wang Xiaohai had no choice but to shuffle off toward Zhao Xiaojin. But before he’d even reached her, the freshly-minted secondary consort had already turned back around, cup of water in hand.
Zhao Xiaojin, hearing no more talking behind her, figured they were done, picked up the teacup, poured the water, and turned to head back.
Just then, she happened to cross paths with Wang Xiaohai on his way over.
She smiled and walked on, carrying the water back by herself. By then the little monk had his book back in his hands, and she held the tea out to him.
“Aren’t you a clever one.” Yin Cheng took the tea with one hand, sure enough, the temperature was just right for drinking.
His secondary consort, young as she was, and still unable to speak clearly, but at least, when it came to reading people, she was rather skilled. With someone like her around, he might have to worry less once they were back in the palace. For now, while they were still outside the palace walls, he might as well use the time to teach her all the characters in the book.
Yin Cheng’s health improved day by day, and the physicians nodded their approval. Still, to be safe, he needed to stay another half a month or so.
As for Zhao Xiaojin, her speech wasn’t coming along quite so smoothly.
Repeating single characters after him wasn’t much of a problem. But when it came to speaking a full sentence on her own, the first half might come out haltingly enough, but by the second half, it was anyone’s guess what accent she’d drifted into.
All in all, a mixed bag of progress and struggle.
“That’s enough for today. Go to the kitchen and see what you’d like to eat, just point it out.” Yin Cheng set down the Thousand Character Classic he’d been using to teach her, and pointed toward the direction of the kitchen.
His secondary consort simply wasn’t used to the plain food here at the pox-avoidance quarters. Whatever she’d pointed out from the characters in the book before, either wasn’t available or was out of season. And so it had become a daily arrangement, going to the kitchen ahead of time to see what food was on hand.
Zhao Xiaojin nodded, said a clear and correct “okay,” and then was led off toward the kitchen by an attendant.
Along the way, she didn’t walk quickly. This was, after all, about the only time each day she got to be on her own. The rest of the time, she stayed cooped up in the little monk’s room.
Over these past days, Zhao Xiaojin had already learned who the little monk actually was.
That Wang Xiaohai kept calling him “Young Master” over and over, she’d tried saying it herself once, and had ended up being pulled aside for an explanation. Although the little monk had said quite a lot that she hadn’t fully understood, she’d caught the words “Young Master” clearly enough, and putting it together with videos she’d watched before, wasn’t that what people called the emperor’s sons?
Although she still didn’t understand why a prince who was ill would be isolated all on his own like this, with no family members around to look after him. And besides, this prince was awfully thin, standing up, he wasn’t even as tall as she was.
On her ninth birthday, she’d weighed thirty and a half kilograms and stood at a hundred and forty-two centimeters, on the taller side of normal for her age. In comparison, the little monk was probably malnourished, wasn’t he?
Looking at what he ate, bland, plain food, no meat, no eggs, barely any oil or sugar to speak of, let alone milk or fruit. After a few days of this, Zhao Xiaojin felt like she herself had lost weight.
She hoped there’d be some meat to see today. No beef, fine, but chicken or fish would do. Braised would be nice, but boiled would do in a pinch too.
In the kitchen, everyone was busy, washing vegetables, chopping vegetables. Not a single person looked up, not a single person paid any attention to Zhao Xiaojin standing at the door.
Zhao Xiaojin had already grown used to this kind of treatment, they’d all been like this for days now, except on the very first day, when Wang Xiaohai had brought her in himself. She didn’t bother the people inside, just stood a little ways off and looked around.
Unfamiliar cabbages, unfamiliar greens, a melon that looked something like a radish, and some flowers that looked rather pretty. Wide noodles, pastries, steamed buns…
Zhao Xiaojin scanned everything one item at a time, and only right at the very edge did she spot a piece of fatty meat. Not exactly her favorite, but at least it had meat on it, better than nothing. She pointed at it and looked back at the attendant following her.
That was an older girl who looked to be around fifteen or sixteen, with somewhat dark skin. Aside from nodding to confirm the requests, she never said an unnecessary word, and kept her head down most of the time.
With nothing good to eat again today, Zhao Xiaojin’s hopes deflated, and even walking suddenly felt like too much effort.
Just as she stepped out of the kitchen, two people carrying a large basket passed right by her.
“Huh?” Was she seeing things? Zhao Xiaojin hurried forward to get a better look.
This blatant act of blocking their path clearly annoyed the two men carrying the basket. But they said nothing, simply set the basket down and waited for her to move out of the way on her own.
That, however, was not going to happen.
Zhao Xiaojin promptly crouched down in front of the basket and reached out to pinch one of the slightly blackened dirt-eggs inside, it was hard. It wasn’t much to look at, not very round, small little lumpy things covered all over with little bumps.
Zhao Xiaojin found these things very familiar. She wanted them.
So she gestured at the older girl, and even tugged at the basket, which she couldn’t budge at all.
“The secondary consort says she wants this basket of things. Since you’re only carrying them off to throw away, might as well give them to her.” The girl with the lowered head simply relayed Zhao Xiaojin’s meaning plainly.
“We can give them to her, sure, but these dirt-eggs are dangerous, she mustn’t let anyone eat them. Last time several servants ate them and they’re still bedridden.”
“Understood. You two, carry this basket and follow the secondary consort now.”
Two people had left the kitchen, by the time they came back, not only had their numbers grown, but so had their haul, one large extra basket besides.
The pox-avoidance quarters were, after all, a small place, and news traveled fast.
The story of how the Eleventh Prince’s newly-appointed secondary consort had picked up something the kitchen meant to throw out spread before she’d even made it back, word had already gotten around by the time she arrived.
By the time Zhao Xiaojin got there, Yin Cheng, along with Wang Xiaohai, was already standing in the most conspicuous spot, waiting for her.
Seeing the little monk waving her over, Zhao Xiaojin picked up her pace toward him.
Wang Xiaohai passed right by her on her way.
He was determined to make sure nothing that might damage the young master’s reputation happened again.
By the time the story had spread this far, the loose tongues had already had their say. Now he wanted to see for himself exactly what discarded junk the secondary consort had picked up, and why she looked so pleased about it.