She hurriedly stepped forward and performed a proper curtsy, respectfully saying, “I am here, Granny Li. Please give your instructions.”
“You will start by tending the fire in the kitchen. Don’t think this task is simple—there are many intricacies to it. Be careful.”
“Yes.”
Just as Wen Ning was about to withdraw, Granny Li suddenly grabbed her wrist.
“You shameless, unruly wench! No wonder your face looked so fair and tender in the woodshed—you’ve been wearing rouge and powder! Do you know what would happen if this powder were to fall into the master’s food while you’re on duty in the kitchen? And what is the meaning of this getup? Do you think that just because you have a pretty face, you can come to the manor and try to seduce the master? How dare you harbor such thoughts about our Marquis!”
“Granny, I haven’t,” Wen Ning stammered, bewildered and wronged by this sudden barrage of accusations.
“Haven’t? Then where does this fragrance on you come from!”
So it was because of the scent on her body. But this fragrance had been with her since birth. Her mother said it was a natural body scent, not something she had intentionally applied.
She hastily knelt to explain, “Granny, please understand, I—”
Before she could finish, Granny Li snatched a basin of cold water from a nearby cleaning maid and splashed it directly into her face.
“Still daring to make excuses! It seems you won’t admit your fault until you see your own coffin! If I don’t teach you a lesson today, you’ll never remember the rules of the kitchen!”
Her soaked clothes clung tightly to her body, and Wen Ning couldn’t help but shiver.
“What is all this commotion!”
A cold shout instantly silenced Granny Li. Everyone turned to look at the newcomer and knelt in unison.
“Greetings, Marquis…”
Granny Li knelt at the front. Believing she had acted in the master’s best interest, she spoke earnestly even in the Marquis’s presence: “Your Lordship, this new wench dared to wear rouge and powder while on duty in the kitchen. This old servant was simply teaching her the rules.”
Wen Ning felt a shadow fall over her. Her fingers, hidden in her sleeves, tightened slightly, and she unconsciously held her breath.
This Marquis of An Yuan, Xie Jinglan, was truly a figure of fear according to the rumors circulating among the people.
It was said that at the age of twelve, he had followed his father into battle. Wherever his silver spear struck, blood was sure to flow. Most horrifying of all, he would take the heads of enemy generals in every battle, tying them with reins beneath his saddle. When he returned victorious to the capital, several ghastly, contorted heads would always trail behind his horse.
“Look up,” the man commanded in a deep voice.
Wen Ning slowly raised her head. The man before her stood tall and imposing. His brows were like solitary, dark mountain ridges, his eyes as black as ink, his nose bridge sharp as if carved by a blade, and his thin lips pressed into a cold, hard line. Just as the rumors said, Xie Jinglan possessed a handsome face, yet it carried an air of stern lethality.
The words of explanation she had intended to speak were swallowed back down.
Xie Jinglan’s eyes flickered slightly. A maid… could look like this…
Wen Ning’s wet hair clung to her pale cheeks and neck. Droplets from the tips of her hair slid down her delicate chin. Her eyelashes trembled faintly, and her glistening, tearful eyes looked pitiful and fragile.
The soaked, plain dress clung tightly to her skin, outlining her slender shoulders and her waist, so slender it seemed it could be encircled by a single hand. She resembled a jasmine flower after the rain—disheveled yet possessing a startling beauty.
This state did not make her appear disgraced; instead, it added a touch of heartbreaking delicacy.
When had Xie Jinglan ever lingered his gaze on a woman? An image of the woman from the thatched cottage surfaced in his mind, and he suddenly felt he must be going mad.
“Preposterous!”
He sneered coldly, looking down at the drenched woman before him, a flicker of imperceptible emotion passing through his eyes.
"This servant… knows her mistake." Wen Ning's slender frame trembled slightly, her fingers clutching tightly at her soaked clothes.
"Hurry back and change your clothes." Xie Jinglan himself didn't know where this sudden anger came from; he only felt that this sensation of being emotionally manipulated was deeply unpleasant.
The successive days of fright had left Wen Ning somewhat dazed. She had actually managed to escape with her life from the hands of this Marquis, who was rumored to kill without batting an eye.
"This servant… will go now."
Having not eaten for two days, and with pregnancy already making her prone to hunger, the shock of the cold water left her vision darkening. She swayed unsteadily before collapsing softly to the ground. Before falling, she instinctively shielded her abdomen with her hand.
Xie Jinglan's gaze darkened as he stepped forward, only to be blocked by the nanny.
"Marquis, you mustn't be deceived by this wretched servant. I've seen plenty like her—she's surely pretending, trying to win your pity. You mustn't fall for her tricks. I'll have someone carry her back to her room right away!"
When Wen Ning opened her eyes again, she was lying on the bed in the servants' quarters, having been changed into dry, coarse clothing.
Before she could even sit up, a round face suddenly leaned in close: "Sister, you're awake! I just finished changing your clothes."
The young girl, about twelve or thirteen years old, had a crooked bun, smudges of stove ash on her cheeks, and was holding a bowl of ginger soup. "Sister, drink this quickly. After the ginger soup, have something to eat. The bowl on the table is what I secretly saved for you."
"Thank you." Wen Ning expressed her gratitude and sat up to take the steaming bowl of ginger soup.
With just that slight movement, the pain buried deep in her flesh surged like a venomous snake, winding its way up her spine, contracting with each breath and causing her shoulder blades to tense sharply.
Granny Li had struck with ruthless cruelty.
"Sister, you mustn't use rouge or powder again in the future. Granny Li is not someone to be trifled with. Just the day before yesterday, I was late by half an hour in preparing the Marquis's medicine and received three strokes of the cane. If the Marquis hadn't happened to pass by today, I'm afraid you wouldn't have escaped punishment either."
Wen Ning nodded helplessly. "Alright, I understand."
After a brief pause, she asked, "What illness does the Marquis suffer from that requires daily medication?"
From what she observed of Xie Jinglan today, he didn't seem like someone who was ill at all.
"I'm not entirely sure either, only that it's a strange illness with no visible symptoms." Chūn Xìng lowered her voice, leaning closer to Wen Ning's ear. "It's probably a condition that prevents him from having children. The old madam burns incense and prays to the gods every day, begging heaven to grant the Xie family an heir."
Chūn Xìng, being young, had pieced together bits of gossip here and there, convinced her analysis was quite reasonable.
So it was a hidden ailment. In the past, while assisting the lame physician at the foot of the mountain, Wen Ning had encountered many men who appeared robust and healthy but were actually weak internally.
Though she had some knowledge of remedies, this was not a matter for a servant like her to comment on. Speculating about her master's private afflictions would be courting death. She knew all too well that in Hou Manor, one must not act on kindness recklessly.
Wen Ning glanced around the room. Though not large, it was tidy and simply arranged, with two narrow beds facing each other and a small square table between them. Two camphorwood chests stood side by side in the corner.
"Earlier, Sister Táng Lí was transferred to serve the old madam, and the other sisters all complained about my nighttime flatulence, teeth grinding, and snoring, unwilling to share a room with me. So from now on, I'll have to trouble you, sister."
Wen Ning smiled slightly: "It's fine. You can just call me Wen Ning from now on. May I ask what your name is?"
"Sister Wen Ning, I'm Chūn Xìng."
Wen Ning drank the ginger soup and was truly starving, so she picked up the bowl of food on the table and began eating.
The cabbage, tofu, and vermicelli were stewed until tender, and she even managed to find two slices of pork belly inside. With a mixed-grain steamed bun, she finished the meal in no time, finally feeling alive again.
While Chūn Xìng wasn't paying attention, she extended three fingers of her right hand and gently placed them on the fair, slender wrist of her left hand.
The pulse manifestation was smooth and rounded, like beads rolling on a plate—that tiny life was still tenaciously existing within her.