Pei Hengyu’s gaze turned colder.
The tactic of playing hard to get was not particularly sophisticated.
He suddenly leaned forward, abruptly closing the distance between them until they were so close that their warm breaths mingled, and they could clearly see each other reflected in their eyes.
Song Shutang’s body stiffened instantly, her breathing even losing its rhythm, because… Pei Hengyu had taken hold of her hand, lifting it to examine it closely.
The shape of those hands was exquisite, with slender fingers like scallion stalks, still relatively fair. However, the slightly reddened fingertips and the faintly yellowed calluses on her palms made Pei Hengyu raise an eyebrow.
Seeing where his gaze had settled, Song Shutang unconsciously curled her fingers inward, her voice soft and even lower than before:
“Your Majesty, please… don’t look.”
The beauty’s eyes were slightly red, and like the flaws on her hands, it evoked pity.
No one could remain composed when their vulnerabilities were exposed, and Song Shutang was no exception. Women cherish beauty; in her maiden days, she had used only the finest things, taking the greatest pride in her delicately nurtured skin.
But after entering the palace, those former days were gone. Those hands not only had to perform rough labor but also do her own needlework. In the cold winters, soaking them in icy water was a common occurrence.
Even though she tried her best to care for them, they inevitably became rough and marked.
A woman’s insecurities were easily laid bare.
Pei Hengyu glanced at her, released her hand, and leaned back to sit upright again, his gaze returning to the half-reviewed memorial. “Leave.”
Lu Ping, waiting outside, had been feeling uneasy. Today, he had been rather bold, sending Miss Song in like that, unsure whether the Emperor would vent his anger on him. Thus, he had been attentively listening for any movement inside.
But as time passed, Miss Song had not yet emerged, and there was no sound of the Emperor losing his temper, so half of his anxiety subsided.
It seemed Miss Song was indeed special. After all, in the Emperor’s current mood, even he had to tread carefully when attending to his duties.
The smile that had unconsciously crept onto his lips did not last long before the palace door opened from within, and Song Shutang emerged with reddened eyes.
Lu Ping glanced behind her; no one followed her out, and no one called for him to enter, so he quietly closed the door.
He had intended to ask Song Shutang in detail about what had happened inside, but just as he began, someone approached and interrupted their conversation.
Ziyun’s expression was not particularly pleasant: “Eunuch Lu, is His Majesty busy?”
“He is occupied. Does Consort Zhen have some matter?”
Song Shutang stood beside Lu Ping, head bowed, unsure whether to leave, so she listened as the two spoke.
So, this was someone from Consort Zhen’s side.
Indeed, when a master was favored, even their servants stood taller. Even when speaking with Lu Ping, she remained neither subservient nor arrogant.
Ziyun said, “The Eldest Prince has been feeling unwell since this afternoon. The imperial physician has already examined him, but now he has developed a fever and keeps murmuring for his father…”
This was clearly a request for the Emperor to visit. Lu Ping’s expression turned serious. For ordinary matters, he might have hesitated, but when it concerned the Eldest Prince, he could not delay:
“Wait here. I will inform His Majesty.”
Ziyun responded, “Thank you, Eunuch.”
Once Lu Ping left, only two people remained in the area. Ziyun’s gaze fell upon Song Shutang. Though she found the woman unfamiliar, the clothing she wore was the uniform of a palace maid serving in the Imperial Presence, so she spoke politely:
“Are you a newly arrived maid in the Imperial Presence?”
……Song Shutang nodded and said yes.
Those serving in the Imperial Presence and those in the rear palace had never been close, so Ziyun did not dwell on Song Shutang’s response.
Song Shutang felt there was no need to linger here either. She gave a slight bow and curtsy before taking her leave.
As the palace door opened, Pei Hengyu stepped out and immediately caught sight of that purple-clad figure retreating, but he soon withdrew his gaze as if nothing had happened.
Lu Ping announced loudly: “Proceed to Zhongcui Palace.”
/
Main Hall of Zhongcui Palace.
A child’s cries echoed through the room, though the sound was hoarse from prolonged weeping.
Consort Zhen sat by the bedside, her eyes filled with anxiety as she dabbed a handkerchief to wipe the tears from the Eldest Prince’s flushed face.
About seven or eight people—imperial physicians and attendants—stood waiting nearby, all holding their breath, not daring to make a sound.
“How much longer until the medicine is ready?” the woman asked with a frown.
“It’s almost ready, Your Highness. It’s cooling now.”
“How is Jin’er?” Footsteps and a voice sounded simultaneously at the doorway.
Everyone in the room knelt in reverence as Pei Hengyu strode swiftly to the bedside. Consort Zhen naturally rose to her feet, yielding her place to Pei Hengyu.
“Your Majesty, Jin’er’s fever hasn’t subsided yet. We’ll see after he takes the medicine.”
Pei Hengyu’s gaze fell upon the still-crying child. He reached out, picked him up, and gently patted his back. “What happened?”
Consort Zhen explained softly, saying that after playing today, they hadn’t been careful for a moment. Sweat on his back had led to a chill, but she hadn’t expected it to become so severe so quickly.
The child in his arms was burning hot, his cries gradually weakening as his head slumped weakly against Pei Hengyu’s shoulder, trembling with sobs. Pei Hengyu stroked the child’s head and said:
“Fifty strokes of the rod.”
At these words, even Consort Zhen was momentarily stunned before she couldn’t help but speak up, “Your Majesty…”
“Lu Ping.”
“Yes, this servant will go at once.”
Thud. Only then did two of the old maids kneeling in the room react, kowtowing and pleading for mercy:
“Spare us, Your Majesty! Spare us, Your Majesty!”
They were the two nannies attending to the Eldest Prince.
“Mmph…” With a single glance from Lu Ping, cloths were immediately stuffed into their mouths, and soon they were dragged out. Muffled groans followed shortly after.
No one in the room dared to breathe loudly. It was Zixia who entered carrying the medicine, whispering:
“Your Majesty, Your Highness, the medicine is ready.”
Consort Zhen glanced at Pei Hengyu’s expression before reaching out to take the warm bowl of medicine, saying cautiously:
“Let this concubine feed him.”
Ziyun and Zixia watched their mistress being so careful and felt a pang of heartache. Everyone said Consort Zhen was esteemed—in this palace, aside from the Empress, she held the highest rank and had borne the only Eldest Prince.
But only those who served her closely knew how their mistress and the Emperor interacted. There was none of the glamour that outsiders imagined.
It wasn’t until night had deepened that Pei Hengyu left Zhongcui Palace.
The corridor was wide and silent, with only the imperial procession passing through.
Lu Ping followed silently beside the sedan chair, not expecting the Emperor to suddenly speak:
“Send her some hand salve.”
The sentence was abrupt and vague. Lu Ping instinctively knew who he meant, but fearing he might guess wrong, he confirmed:
“You mean… Miss Song?”
The sound of the wind blew through the silence, with no one responding. Lu Ping promptly slapped himself, the sound loud enough to carry into the sedan chair. “This servant spoke out of turn. I will make the arrangements tomorrow.”
It seemed this Miss Song was truly not simple.
/
The next day, Lu Ping personally arrived at Song Shutang’s bedchamber.
Accompanied by Shun Fu, who held a redwood box in his hands, Lu Ping said:
“His Majesty has ordered that some items be delivered to Miss Song.”
Under Song Shutang’s surprised gaze, he continued:
“Wait a moment. Caiyuan will come to familiarize you with the duties of serving in the Imperial Presence. His Majesty is waiting for you to attend to him.”
Lu Ping’s smile was genuine. When he brought it up this morning, the Emperor had not voiced any objection, which meant it was permitted. Ahem, masters all have times when they are in a bad mood, and having someone to share the burden is naturally better.
“Your meaning, Eunuch…”
Lu Ping nodded. “From now on, you will be the same as Caiyuan and Caisuo. All provisions for food, clothing, and monthly allowance will be adjusted accordingly.”
Previously, she had been only a low-ranking Sweeping Maid, with the smallest monthly allowance. But a senior palace maid serving in the Imperial Presence held an official rank.
No one would ever complain about having more money. As for serving in the Imperial Presence, Song Shutang was also somewhat surprised.
Through yesterday’s probing, she had realized that the Emperor held some interest in her, though to what extent remained unclear.
She had originally thought that his order for her to leave had severed this path.
After seeing Lu Ping off, Song Shutang opened the box. Inside were hand salve, pearl almond oil, and two boxes of scented balm.
She opened the delicate, small lids and sniffed—the fragrance of roses.
She lowered her eyes, carefully applying the hand salve to her hands. Its cool, moist texture gently melted, releasing a mild, fresh scent.
The calluses on her palms still felt slightly rough to the touch, but surely, before long, they would regain their former smoothness?
So thought Song Shutang.
/
As the depths of winter gradually receded and the Lantern Festival arrived, Song Shutang officially began serving in the Imperial Presence.
An unfamiliar fragrance drifted to his nose, clashing with the ambergris incense in the Imperial Study. Pei Hengyu’s brows furrowed slightly.
Raising his eyes, he saw a pair of plain hands placing a teacup on the imperial desk—slender wrists, clean and bare.
“Why is it you?” he asked.
She kept her eyes lowered, answering softly, “Eunuch Lu said that from now on, this servant will serve in the Imperial Presence.”
“Presumptuous.”
Though he was clearly referring to Lu Ping, the woman knelt once more, her voice trembling slightly. “Your Majesty, forgive this servant.”
…Weren’t you quite bold before? Now you kneel and admit fault so readily.
He picked up the teacup and took a small sip. “Did Lu Ping not tell you?”
“…What?”
“As the weather grows warmer, the tea temperature should be lowered.”
“Eunuch Lu did instruct me. It is this servant’s first time brewing tea, and my hands are still unskilled. Your Majesty, forgive this servant.”
If it were someone ordinarily serving in the Imperial Presence, they would not even have the chance to exchange these words with Pei Hengyu.
He admitted that her good looks had granted her an extra measure of patience.
“Get ou…”
“Your Majesty, have you noticed anything different about today’s tea?”
The command to leave paused briefly. “Get out.”
The anticipation that had briefly flickered in her eyes when she asked the question was quickly replaced by disappointment. She bowed her head. “Yes, this servant takes her leave.”
By dinnertime, Pei Hengyu had finished handling official matters. Sunlight had quietly retreated from the room, replaced by the hazy hues of dusk.
Lu Ping entered to present tea, taking the opportunity to replenish the lamps and incense.
“Do you know how to grind ink?”
Lu Ping was taken aback. He replaced the lid of the incense burner and replied:
“This servant knows how.”
For so many years, he had always been the one to grind the Emperor’s ink. Why was he suddenly being asked about it now?
Behind the imperial desk, Pei Hengyu’s hand paused as he held the brush, his voice cold:
“Are you not coming over?”
Lu Ping was both baffled and somewhat aggrieved. He hurried over to begin grinding the ink. He had been waiting outside all afternoon, and neither ministers nor consorts had come to disturb the Emperor. Why was he in such a foul mood?
Although Pei Hengyu’s expression remained unchanged, Lu Ping could still sense it from his earlier words.
The atmosphere remained tense for a long while. Pei Hengyu continued to review memorials as usual, his brushstrokes flowing smoothly and without pause.
Finally snapping back to his senses, Lu Ping recalled Song Shutang, who had left the Imperial Study earlier in the day and had not returned since. It seemed he understood the reason a little better now. He remarked casually:
“Miss Song seemed to be in low spirits today.”
“She spent the whole day in the tea room, watching the young maids boil water.”
With a sharp snap, Pei Hengyu closed the memorial in his hand and lightly scolded:
“Noisy.”