The next day, Shen Que issued an order: Madam Gu had performed poorly at the Plum Garden poetry gathering, and her confinement was extended by ten days.
Xiao Tao looked at Gu Ningning with extra worry. She wanted to speak several times but feared touching a sore spot, so she ended up saying nothing for a long while.
Without needing to rise early for morning greetings, Gu Ningning allowed herself to sleep until she naturally woke, yawning as she stared absentmindedly at the plum blossoms outside her window.
Xiao Tao naturally interpreted her “absentmindedness” as “worry” and said indignantly,
“Madam, rest assured. Your highness valued you greatly before; he surely won’t neglect you for too long.”
In truth, Gu Ningning didn’t care.
Years ago, she had once entered another novel, where the male lead was a possessive yandere and the female lead was socially anxious. The male lead locked the female lead in a small dark room. Outsiders thought she was being cruelly deprived of her freedom, but in truth, inside the little dark room, she didn’t have to work or interact with anyone—she was perfectly content.
Back then, she had entered the role of a doctor because the female lead’s mother was ill. The male lead instructed her to treat the illness, saying, “If she cannot be saved, you will go with her in death.”
And then she died—peacefully.
Gu Ningning’s current situation was similar: the boss was confining a corporate drone, preventing her from going to work. Could this really be called confinement? This was a kindness, a good deed.
Especially now, even though she didn’t have to work, her salary still continued. Gu Ningning felt even more comfortable.
She leisurely ate her lunch and then took an afternoon nap.
To be honest, she was reasonably satisfied with her job. It didn’t require daily office hours; she only needed to traverse different places and wait for death. Though the salary wasn’t high, the bonus for completing tasks was quite substantial.
In the afternoon, just after waking from her nap, a servant came to report that Chang Yue had arrived.
Chang Yue was Shen Que’s personal eunuch, respected even by Yun Secondary Consort, and nearly every household master had secretly given him silver to curry favor.
Gu Ningning had given nothing—she was poor—and in fact, Chang Yue had deducted three months’ salary from her.
Feeling a bit guilty, she searched the room and finally found a bracelet of decent quality to give him.
“Eunuch, you suffered following me last time. I have nothing to compensate you with, but perhaps this bracelet will do. Please don’t despise it.”
Eunuch Chang, perhaps feeling pity for her poverty, said, “Madam, you are too polite. It is all my fault that you suffered; how could I accept something from you?”
They argued back and forth a little, following the standard ritual for giving and refusing gifts during holidays:
She offered first; Eunuch Chang refused.
She offered again; Eunuch Chang waved his hands repeatedly.
She said, “If you don’t accept it now, I’ll get angry.”
Only then did Eunuch Chang reluctantly take it, saying, “Madam, you mustn’t do this again next time. It’s too much for an old servant.”
Gu Ningning didn’t know if Eunuch Chang found this daily ritual of all the ladies exhausting; she, at least, felt a bit tired.
Once he had finally secured the bracelet in his sleeve, he said,
“These are books carefully selected for you by your highness.”
He instructed a servant to place the stack of books in front of Gu Ningning.
“Your highness said that perhaps you don’t like reading because you haven’t yet found something you enjoy. These books cover various categories; you can choose what interests you. Your highness will discuss them with you when he has time.”
She casually flipped through one of the books and, upon seeing the complex classical Chinese, began to feel a headache coming on.
Chang Yue added, “I have never seen your highness care so much for anyone. Your highness truly has you in his heart.”
Gu Ningning paused: this line was meant for the female lead, now delivered to a cannon fodder character—how odd.
She maintained a smiling face and personally escorted Chang Yue out. After he left, she noticed he didn’t return directly to the main residence but walked toward Jieyu Zhou’s place.
In the evening, the gossip queen Xiao Tao brought back two pieces of news:
First:
Shen Que had gifted Jieyu Zhou a pair of Eastern pearl earrings, a butterfly gold hairpin, a golden begonia hairpin, two pearl necklaces, and a jade bracelet.
Second:
Jieyu Zhou had shown off these gifts to Yun Secondary Consort, resulting in a ten-day confinement punishment.
Indeed, cannon fodder remained cannon fodder. Even when fate briefly offered an opportunity, they would still fail to grasp it and return to their original status.
Jieyu Zhou was like this, and Gu Ningning thought she would be much the same. Even if the plot had errors, she could soon return to modern life as a comfortably doomed cannon fodder.
She saw this as a case of “misfortune befalls others, sorrow follows”; Xiao Tao, however, felt it was immensely satisfying.
“I knew it. There is always someone better, someone higher. Jieyu Zhou was so arrogant; it was only a matter of time before someone taught her a lesson. I heard that after her confinement, even Zhaoyi Zhao, who had been friendly with her, mocked her harshly behind her back.”
Gu Ningning turned on her bed, still holding a book of classical Chinese she could not understand.
She felt a headache coming and handed it to Xiao Tao. “Swap this for another.”
Xiao Tao casually gave her a military strategy book.
“From my observation, Madam, you are currently the most favored in the Eastern Palace. If you take care of your health and bear your highness’s eldest son, your status will be secure.”
Gu Ningning: …
This maid was competent everywhere, but overly ambitious—and lacked discernment.
For Xiao Tao to live well after her death, she turned and said,
“Xiao Tao, do you know why we’ve managed reasonably well in the Eastern Palace?”
“I do not know.”
Gu Ningning said, “Because although we’ve offended many ladies, we’ve maintained a good relationship with the Secondary Consort.”
Xiao Tao nodded, half understanding.
Gu Ningning continued, “Do you know why we maintain a good relationship with the Secondary Consort?”
“Because… we gave her many erotic paintings?”
Gu Ningning waved her middle finger in front of Xiao Tao. “No, no, no.
“The main reason is that we have no conflicting interests with the Secondary Consort.
“Secondary Consort does not favor your highness and doesn’t care much about attention. But as the daughter of an official family, the Yun family had immense power in earlier years, now gradually declining. She entered the Eastern Palace to maintain the family’s status; she needs power.
“Thus, even if I were to give birth, I must wait until Yun Secondary Consort has given birth. Yan Guo favors the eldest son especially. If I were to bear the first son, my merit would outshine hers, and the Secondary Consort would soon suppress us.”
This revelation clearly stunned Xiao Tao, leaving her blinking for a long time without reaction.
These were the valuable lessons Gu Ningning had gained from years of entering novels—experiences no one else had.
Once she had sent Xiao Tao away, she opened the military strategy book.
Before her eyes were Shen Que’s bold, flowing handwriting: “In all the ways of warfare, strategy comes first.”
This was a book Shen Que himself had read, and he had written annotations in it.
In the novel, Shen Que was portrayed as extraordinarily intelligent, a military genius with countless achievements, while his subordinates were mostly paper-thin characters. Gu Ningning had felt little reality in this at first, only admiration. Now, reading his annotations in the book, she found herself genuinely interested.
She continued reading. With Shen Que’s commentary, the text was no longer as opaque as other books, and sometimes he even vented in the margins.
Words like “nonsense,” “useless,” “boring” fit his arrogant, domineering personality perfectly.
Unnoticed, it became night. Despite silver charcoal burning in the stove, the room remained chilly.
She had wondered before whether people in the past risked carbon monoxide poisoning from charcoal fires in winter. Traveling back in time, she realized that due to poor construction and drafty houses, poisoning was not an issue.
Gu Ningning, being weak, still felt a chill under a blanket.
At that moment, she found herself somewhat missing Shen Que.