Shen Que sat at the table for a while, and Jieyu Zhou immediately brought him a cup of hot tea.
Shen Que gave a single “Hmm” in response. His tone was somewhat cold. “It’s late. You should sleep first. I’ll sit here a while longer before I leave.”
Jieyu Zhou felt an immense sense of humiliation, nearly smashing the cup in her hands, but she forced herself to restrain her anger. She lowered her eyes pitifully and said,
“But where did this concubine offend your highness?”
Shen Que, of course, could not admit that he was here to help Gu Ningning vent her anger, as well as to indirectly settle matters on her behalf. He merely gave her a glance, neither warm nor cold.
“I just have some matters to attend to.”
Jieyu Zhou bit her lip in frustration, almost speaking her doubts aloud, but she held back. Only after Shen Que left completely did she release her anger, sweeping the items on the table to the floor.
Outside the door, Chang Yue shook her head at the clattering sounds from within. She then stiffened her expression and summoned all the servants in Luoxue Courtyard.
“Today, no one is allowed to spread word that your highness has left. If anyone asks, say that your highness is staying in Luoxue Courtyard tonight. Anyone who disobeys our orders will have their tongue cut out and fed to the dogs. Understand?”
The servants in Luoxue Courtyard were full of doubts, but Chang Yue was a trusted confidant of your highness, and in Eastern Palace her word was law. The servants dared not speak further, only nodding in acknowledgment.
The Plum Garden poetry gathering arrived as scheduled.
Originally, only Zhaoyi Bai and Zhaoyi Zhao had been invited. Shen Que forcibly inserted Gu Ningning into the guest list. Now, upon hearing this, Jieyu Zhou insisted on attending as well, expanding the group.
Today, Jieyu Zhou wore a plain velvet embroidered jacket, draped with a violet brocade cloak, her hair styled in a Ling Snake bun with a Begonia hairpin swaying above. Her complexion was rosy, with a faint, practiced charm at the corners of her eyes.
Zhaoyi Zhao looked at her with envy, but only Jieyu Zhou knew that the rosy charm was entirely painted on with rouge!
Such shameful things could not be revealed. She could only feign pride.
“This time we are representing the face of your highness. Sisters, do not bring shame to your highness.”
Zhaoyi Bai frowned, taking Gu Ningning’s hand to comfort her discreetly.
Gu Ningning’s heart, however, was calm as still water…
She hadn’t seen Jieyu Zhou for several days. During that time, Shen Que had been visiting Jieyu Zhou every night.
According to the maids in Luoxue Courtyard, your highness was exceptionally powerful.
Gu Ningning could not help worrying whether Jieyu Zhou might be overwhelmed.
Being with Shen Que was always difficult to endure. The man acted impulsively, and when Gu Ningning tried to retaliate, he was best-tempered afterward, never angry, only restraining her to kiss her. In the end, it was always she who suffered.
Now, seeing Jieyu Zhou standing there full of life, Gu Ningning doubted herself.
Was it truly her body that was too weak? Or had Shen Que begun to cherish gentle women?
Looking at Jieyu Zhou’s petite frame, similar to hers, the second seemed far more likely.
Hiss… Shen Que truly treated her that way, showing no concern at all!
She smiled faintly at Jieyu Zhou. “This concubine will follow sister’s guidance.”
Jieyu Zhou shot her a hateful glare and turned, the carriage wheels creaking beneath her.
Zhaoyi Zhao followed her into the same carriage, probably wanting Jieyu Zhou to guide her.
Zhaoyi Bai took Gu Ningning into another carriage, pursing her lips in reassurance.
“She is just like that. Do not bother yourself with her.”
Then she pulled some sheets of paper from her sleeve and handed them to her.
“I know you dislike writing poetry. I prepared these for you last night. Study them carefully in the carriage. If Jieyu Zhou tries to embarrass you at the gathering by asking you to compose poetry, you will not be so troubled.”
It was a timely help. Gu Ningning was touched, taking Zhaoyi Bai’s hand and recalling the plot in her mind.
“I have nothing to repay sister for. I can only give a warning: do not trust Secondary Consort Yun. If she asks you to deliver anything to others, do not do it.”
In the original story, Secondary Consort Yun had plotted for Zhaoyi Bai to give the heroine poisoned medicine, intending to torture her to death while she was unconscious.
Zhaoyi Bai did not take her words to heart, replying casually.
Gu Ningning sighed inwardly. Though she knew the story, she was only a worker—her identity even lower than Zhaoyi Bai’s cannon fodder. When Zhaoyi Bai died, her grave would already be overgrown; she could do nothing.
Ah, she herself would be directly beaten to death by Shen Que and thrown into a mass grave, likely without even a proper tomb.
Fortunately, the cannon fodder system protected employees’ mental and spiritual safety. Upon completing their assigned task, their souls and consciousness would detach, sparing them from actual death.
The carriage traveled to the Marquis of Wuan’s Residence.
The marquisate was rich and extensive, comparable in size to Eastern Palace. But since the Marquis of Wuan had more taste than Shen Que, the pavilions and halls were more exquisite, with intricate beams and painted eaves everywhere.
Madam Hou, accompanied by the other women of the household, came out to greet the guests. Each lady had a rosy complexion, adorned in gold and jade, their aura impeccable.
One glance was enough to know that these were refined ladies skilled in music, chess, calligraphy, and painting—a world apart from Gu Ningning, who exuded the air of a good-for-nothing beauty.
Transmigration into novels required skill. If one became a noble lady of such a household, endless wealth and honor awaited. If one became a concubine, endless struggles among women and serving men lay ahead.
The identity one transmigrated into mattered, as did the era.
Ordinary people could end up in chaotic periods like Qin, Three Kingdoms, or Southern and Northern Dynasties, where survival was difficult, taxes high, and death likely.
Better eras included Han, Tang, Yuan, Ming, and Qing dynasties, with stability and development.
The ultimate golden era was the Song Dynasty—socially tolerant, with night markets and freedom.
Of course, if one were a powerful figure, it mattered little; they could thrive anywhere.
Perhaps her envious gaze was too blatant. Jieyu Zhou moved away from her, disgusted.
“After all, we come from the Prime Minister’s Residence. How can your eyes be so shallow? You are embarrassing your highness!”
“Being of low status, naturally, I am not as worldly as sister.”
Recently scolded by Shen Que on Jieyu Zhou’s behalf, Gu Ningning wanted to appease her.
“Sister is now favored by your highness. Wealth and honor will surely be yours. I congratulate you in advance.”
For some reason, this remark hit Jieyu Zhou’s sore spot. She glared at Gu Ningning.
“Gu Ningning, stop your sarcastic tone!”
Puzzled, Gu Ningning watched as Zhaoyi Bai and Zhaoyi Zhao quickly pulled Jieyu Zhou aside.
Raising her eyes, Gu Ningning saw Madam Hou not far off, greeting guests along with her daughters and a man in white.
The man’s back was to her, and his face was not visible.