“Just a pleasing plaything, that’s all.”…
The rain continued for over ten days in a row.
By deep winter, it grew even colder.
Ming Ying knew Pei Xiaoyun wouldn’t call her to serve—because she had angered him, and the greater his anger, the longer he would ignore her.
She counted the days, hiding in her room all day long, embroidering.
The room was heated with ordinary gray charcoal; if too much was burned, smoke and dust would fill the air, making her cough uncontrollably. Yet she feared the cold—without burning more charcoal, how could she stay warm?
With her status, if her master didn’t wish to favor her, she was merely an ordinary servant.
Thus, once she was neglected, even the two little maids who liked to play with her stopped coming—because she couldn’t enter the master’s quarters and couldn’t bring them tasty treats.
Only Ling Shuang would keep her company.
She had come to regard Ling Shuang as an elder sister.
But today, Ling Shuang was also leaving to visit her family.
“I’m going home and won’t be back for four or five days. Remember to take your medicine on time, and apply the ointment if your wound hasn’t scabbed over. If there’s any work to be done, just have the others do it.”
“I understand, Sister Ling Shuang.” Ming Ying held an umbrella as she saw her off through the back gate, watching her family arrive in a carriage to fetch her, remarking how thin she had grown.
As she watched them disappear into the distance, her eyes grew moist.
She, too, once had parents and an elder brother—a family of her own.
It was the most inconspicuous household tucked deep in an alley.
Her mother loved planting flowers; upon entering, the scent of blossoms always greeted them.
Her father wasn’t a scholar and had little learning, but he was skilled at crafting qin—he could make any beautiful instrument. Wood shavings often filled the courtyard, as if stepping into a snowy field.
She and her brother, playful as they were, would gather the snow-white shavings and toss them into the air, like swirling goose-feather snowflakes.
Her mother was gentle and beautiful, rarely losing her temper—except when they got themselves filthy, their hair and clothes covered in wood shavings.
They were truly too mischievous.
The following year, her father and mother found an elderly fellow townsman to teach them how to write.
Her brother said he didn’t like writing—he wanted to learn horseback riding, to go to the battlefield and slay enemies, to become a great general someday.
As she doodled on paper, she muttered that with his small strength, how could he ever become a great general.
To prove his strength, her brother secretly climbed over the wall to play outside but accidentally knocked over a wall of flowers…
If only they were all still alive, how wonderful that would be.
With Ling Shuang gone, there truly wasn’t anyone left to talk to.
Returning from the back gate, the courtyard was bustling with noise.
Yu Zhong was dressed flamboyantly, swaying her hips, her small face lifted, looking even more smug than usual.
Seeing Ming Ying approach, she stretched out a hand to block her path. “The Second Master has taken a liking to me and asked the Eldest Master for me. From now on, I won’t be like you—you’re just a bedchamber maid, while I’m going to be a concubine.”
After a moment of surprise, Ming Ying pursed her lips and smiled faintly. “Congratulations, then.”
Ever since Ming Ying arrived at Lanqing Zhuoyuan, Yu Zhong had resented her for causing Zhui’er’s death in the separate courtyard, opposing her at every turn.
She just hadn’t expected Yu Zhong to leave so suddenly.
“Are you sincere? Your smile looks worse than a cry!” Yu Zhong stepped forward unhappily, her expression triumphant. “What a gloomy look! In my opinion, the Eldest Master has long forgotten you. In a few days, when he marries you off to a servant or gives you away to someone else, don’t go crying and making a scene.”
Ming Ying, her face pale, entered her room.
With the most troublesome Yu Zhong gone, the courtyard fell silent, but her parting words echoed deeply in Ming Ying’s mind.
Is it the fate of those in servitude to be forgotten by their masters, assigned to servants, or given away to others?
One day, when he grows tired of her, will he also give her away? Perhaps there's no need to wait for the future—does he even remember her now?
She patted her cheeks, summoning a bit of strength back.
It seems she can't go on like this.
If she doesn't behave a little better, he might truly forget her.
Eastern Palace.
Pei Xiaoyun was waiting for Crown Prince Xiao Lang, who had not yet returned from court.
Deeply trusted by the Crown Prince, the servants of the Eastern Palace did not treat him as an outsider. Upon his arrival, they seated him respectfully and served tea.
The fragrance of tea wafted gently.
A draft proposal to reopen the imperial examinations lay openly on the desk. Pei Xiaoyun approached for a closer look, his gaze growing increasingly profound.
Since the reign of Emperor Taizu of Dajing, the path to the imperial examinations had been monopolized by the noble families.
Those who achieved success on the golden list were all sons, nephews, or disciples of the great clans. Most of them were frivolous individuals who indulged in hunting and pleasure, while truly talented scholars from humble backgrounds remained unrecognized.
By the time of the previous emperor, the power of the noble families had grown so immense that they even abolished the imperial examinations.
Thus, Pei Xiaoyun had once suggested to the Crown Prince that if he wished to reopen the examinations to select capable individuals for the country and provide opportunities for all scholars to enter officialdom, then the examiners and officials overseeing the process should not be appointed from among the noble families.
But Xiao Lang had not heeded his advice.
Judging from the draft on the desk, the examiners and officials were still to be appointed by the father of the Crown Princess—the Minister of Rites.
The Crown Princess's maternal family was precisely one of the great noble clans.
In this way, reopening the imperial examinations was nothing more than a game played by Xiao Lang to win the people's support for his succession—utterly meaningless.
With the noble families consolidating power, the ruler was no ruler, and the ministers no ministers.
How long could such an absurd court endure?
The beaded curtain parted, and a corner of bright yellow robe entered his line of sight.
Xiao Lang, with a smile on his face, patted his shoulder. "Ling Yuan, I've kept you waiting. My Crown Princess caught a cold, and I went to accompany her for a while, which delayed me."
"Greetings, Your Highness," Pei Xiaoyun bowed slightly.
He had long heard that Xiao Lang was utterly devoted to his Crown Princess.
A fool infatuated with women.
For the sake of a woman, would he even hand over the entire kingdom?
"Why stand on ceremony with me? Take a seat."
Xiao Lang was the first to sit down, lifting the hem of his robe. "By the way, Fuying's birthday is in a few days. As her fiancé, you must not neglect her."
Pei Xiaoyun remained composed. "I have prepared gifts in advance and will personally visit Prince Yi's residence to offer my congratulations."
Xiao Lang added, "Ling Yuan, my sister Fuying truly admires you. She is Prince Yi's only daughter. If you treat her well, Prince Yi will wholeheartedly assist me. Once I ascend the throne, you two will be my right-hand men. I will never treat you unfairly."
A flicker of emotion passed through Pei Xiaoyun's eyes, its meaning difficult to decipher.
Xiao Lang hoped he would marry Xiao Fuying to secure Prince Yi's unwavering support and solidify his position as emperor.
Did he think of him as a pawn to be manipulated at will?
He sneered inwardly.
It was still uncertain who was the pawn.
As for women, he had little interest. Indulging them occasionally and amusing himself behind closed doors was enough.
As for marriage, he held no particular expectations. Sooner or later, he would have to marry—if not Xiao Fuying, then someone else.
"Your Highness need not worry. I will ensure your satisfaction," he said.
Xiao Lang raised an eyebrow. "I heard you've hidden a beauty away and have now moved her to the inner courtyard?"
Pei Xiaoyun showed no hesitation, his tone light as if joking. "Your Highness jestes. She is merely a pleasing plaything."
"Ling Yuan, let me tell you," Xiao Lang pointed at him with a laugh. "It's fine if you keep her for amusement, but after the new year you'll be getting married. You mustn't disgrace Fuying's reputation. The one at home—you should deal with her as soon as possible."
Pei Xiaoyun, indifferent, lifted his gaze slightly. "No need for Your Highness to trouble yourself. I have my own plans."
Pei Xiaoyun emerged from the Eastern Palace with a grim expression, his head aching slightly.
He had originally intended to return directly to Lanqing Zhuoyuan to rest, but as soon as he entered the main courtyard, he was summoned by servants from Rongxi Hall.
The moment he stepped into Rongxi Hall, he knew they were still discussing the matter of his father, Duke Qu.
The man had been imprisoned in the Dali Temple that day and still hadn't been released.
Only Old Madam in the family was anxious.
Seeing him enter, Old Madam's expression turned cold.
She knew that, bearing old grudges, he would certainly not intervene to help. She sighed, "At this point, the only option is to beg His Majesty to revoke the dukedom and see if that can save a life."
Upon hearing this, Pei Xiaoyun was unimpressed, idly toying with the tassels on his robe.
"Impossible!" Lady Lan was the first to slam the table and stand up, showing none of the timid, tearful pleas for her husband's innocence from a few days prior.
Pei Xiaoyun leaned back in his chair and glanced over lightly.
Lady Lan's beautiful face twisted with a hint of distortion. "The evil he committed—why should the family bear the consequences? The dukedom is passed down through generations. For the sake of one criminal, are we to have the title revoked? What will become of our descendants?"
Old Madam understood her true intentions now—no wonder she hadn't shown the slightest anxiety these past few days. Pointing at her, she exclaimed, "You venomous woman! That's your husband in prison! Are you so eager for him to die so your second son can inherit the title sooner?"
Lady Lan sneered, "I'll make this clear: anyone who dares to covet the dukedom will have me to deal with!"
Husband? What kind of husband was he to her!
Back then, she had fallen in love at first sight with the second son of the Pei family, but her family despised Pei Er for being a mere scholar and forced her to marry his elder brother—the current Duke Qu.
A marriage of two families, mutual disdain, they had become a resentful couple.
How could she love the eldest son born to a man she loathed? Every time she saw him, she was reminded of the repulsive man by her side.
They had ruined her life, and she would repay them fiercely.
Thus, she bore a second son with the younger brother she had always loved. This child was the treasure she held closest to her heart, and this dukedom must belong to her Jing'er!
Pei Xiaoyun watched her calmly.
This mother of his could send him to his death with her own hands, yet she would spare no effort to secure a future for his second brother.
He remembered when he was a child, he had merely pestered her for a piece of pastry, and she had ordered him locked in the pitch-dark library…
She would hold his second brother affectionately but leave him to the servants.
Gradually, he no longer sought her closeness, and mother and son became like strangers. Kinship, blood ties—all became things he despised most.
She wanted the dukedom. Did she think she would get her way?
Lady Lan and Old Madam continued to argue.
"Mother, in my opinion, there's no need to save a useless man. He brought this upon himself with all the evil he's done!"
"You…"
Old Madam clutched her chest and fainted.
"Quick! Call for a physician!"
Dull and noisy.
Pei Xiaoyun stood up and left Rongxi Hall without looking back, returning to his own courtyard.
His headache grew worse, and a restless irritation rose in his eyes.
Entering his room, he found candles lit inside, and a faint, sweet fragrance wafted out.
It was the scent from her.
It captivated his thoughts, instantly soothing that clamoring pain within him.
Ming Ying had already brewed tea for him and specially prepared several plates of his favorite pastries.
She wore no makeup, her hair simply tied up, dressed in the gown he had once praised for its beauty. Rolling up her sleeves, she ground ink for him, waiting for his return.
The bead curtain clinked, clear and melodious.
Hearing his footsteps, she set down the ink stick and stood quietly to the side.
She didn’t know whether her sudden intrusion would displease him.
Pei Xiaoyun observed her with his eyes—this was the first time he had seen her since punishing her last time.
She kept her head lowered, not daring to look at him, her eyes blinking rapidly, a faint blush spreading across her cheeks.
As delicate and lovely as before, a natural-born enchantress.
“Why are you just standing there? Come help me change.” He stood in place, spreading his arms, waiting for her to approach.
Ming Ying’s heart tightened as she stepped forward.
He lowered his head, and she effortlessly removed his outer robe, helping him change into a sky-blue casual outfit.
His narrow waist, firm chest, and the warm breath that enveloped her made her cheeks flush.
“Did you apply perfume?” Pei Xiaoyun suddenly grasped her hand, teasingly.
Ming Ying shook her head lightly. “This servant did not use any perfume.”
He led her toward the sandalwood table, sitting on the round-backed chair with his legs apart, closing his eyes as if dozing.
“Come massage me.”
Ming Ying finally breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn’t angry about her taking the initiative, nor did he… despise her.
She moved closer to him, gently pressing her fingers against his temples.
She had seen him looking weary many times before—likely troubled by official matters again.
“Is Young Master tired? If you’re tired, rest for a while.”
Pei Xiaoyun abruptly opened his eyes.
Her voice was like a clear spring, washing away the things that had unsettled him.
Some saw him as a pawn, others as a burden.
It seemed only she, foolish and ignorant, would ask such a meaningless question.
“What, do you want to share my worries?” He smiled ambiguously.
Ming Ying didn’t know how to respond for a moment.
He never liked her inquiring too much.
Perhaps she shouldn’t have said those words?
Her fingertips stiffened slightly.
Pei Xiaoyun paid it no mind. Instead, he took her hand, pulling the soft jade into his embrace, and stared at her. “Why did you come on your own today?”
Under his piercing gaze, Ming Ying felt her ears burning.
She sensed he wasn’t angry—this was a tone that allowed her to act coy—so she buried her face in his chest. “I missed you.”
Pei Xiaoyun seemed quite satisfied with her answer. Lowering his head, he captured her lips, savoring the sweetness he had missed these past days.
Pushing aside the green leaves, his hand wandered over the flower.
Ming Ying arched her slender neck, trembling uncontrollably.
He chuckled softly. “Tomorrow, I’ll take you to the lantern festival. How does that sound?”
Ming Ying couldn’t speak, her eyes brimming with tears, only able to nod.
“Say it,” he commanded.
A hint of shyness.
She bit her lip tightly, then released it, uttering a single word. “Good.”
Author’s Note:
Chapter comments are open [dog head]
Let’s give Pei the dog a slap first [waving hand]