He took out a faded sachet and examined it closely under the lamplight.
A tiny winter plum blossom was embroidered right in the center of the pouch.
The stitching was clumsy and inexperienced, yet not a single thread had been sewn carelessly.
It was clearly made with great care.
He slowly narrowed his eyes, brushing his thumb across the plum blossom…
The candle flame flickered.
In the dancing shadows, it was as if he had returned to five years ago.
That year, Wei Yinzhao was fifteen.
After her coming-of-age ceremony, a crowd surrounded her in the flower hall to offer congratulations, their laughter filling her ears.
Yet, she had sneaked out while no one was looking, lifting her skirts and running up to him with a blushing face.
She shoved the sachet into his hands, her eyes curving into a bright smile.
“Brother Hengzhi, this is for you.
If you don’t like it, you can just throw it away.
I’ll embroider another one later, and keep embroidering until you are satisfied with it.”
Before he could refuse, she had already turned and run off.
Reaching the corridor, she looked back and shouted to him across a courtyard full of sunlight.
“Xie Hengzhi, since you’ve accepted my sachet, you are my man now!”
Her voice was crisp, bold, and passionate.
All the maids and elderly servant women in the courtyard heard it and covered their mouths to muffle their laughter.
Later, during countless lonely, endless nights, he often wondered if, had that disaster not happened, he would have eventually relented under her persistent coaxing.
There were no ifs.
And there was no answer.
He tucked the sachet into his sleeve and closed the hidden compartment.
The shadow of the Painted Skin Case loomed over every corner of Luojing City.
As winter set in, the sun set early; the sky turned pitch black right after 5 p.m.
The maid selection office did not light large candles, only two oil lamps in the corridor.
Once night fell, the girls only dared to go to the latrine in groups.
At the slightest rustle of the wind or grass, muffled gasps could be heard.
Everyone’s nerves were taut, terrified of running into that skin-flaying fierce ghost.
But once dawn broke, everything returned to normal.
The maid selection process at the Prince Mansion was exceptionally strict, far exceeding that of ordinary noble households.
Every day had a fixed curriculum.
At 5 a.m., when the sky was just beginning to lighten, all the candidate maids had to get up.
They gathered their clothes, tied their hair, washed their hands, and straightened their collars, not daring to delay for a single moment.
They arrived at the front courtyard precisely on time for training.
Serving tea, setting out dishes, holding chopsticks, handing over handkerchiefs—every single movement had a set standard.
The discipline ruler in Nanny Wang’s hand had no eyes.
The slightest mistake earned a sharp smack, leaving the girls’ wrists red and swollen.
The courtyard full of young girls trembled with fear, terrified of being punished and ruining their futures.
Only Ci’er was an exception.
It wasn’t that she never got hit, but rather that she never panicked when she did.
When the ruler came down, she didn’t even frown; she simply rubbed her wrist and went back to whatever she was supposed to be doing.
Once, A Tao’s hands shook, and a bowl of boiling hot tea nearly spilled out.
Ci’er reached out with quick reflexes to block it.
The back of her hand was scalded red, yet she took the punishment for A Tao without changing her expression.
Nanny Wang had served at the Prince Mansion for decades and had seen countless people.
She took note of this and, though she didn’t say anything aloud, she took special care of Ci’er in private, frequently offering her guidance.
However, the nanny’s favoritism became a sin in the eyes of the others.
On the twenty-seventh day of the winter month, a cold wave struck.
The north wind howled through the night.
Ci’er walked out carrying her washbasin.
A few maids were gathered around the well drawing water.
Seeing her approaching at a leisurely pace, they stopped what they were doing.
Their eyes collectively fixed on her, and it was unclear who let out the first cold sneer.
“Oh, isn’t this the precious daughter of our resident castrator?”
Ci’er didn’t break her stride, as if she hadn’t heard a thing.
Cui Wei snorted, slamming her laundry club heavily against the edge of the basin.
“We have to squeeze into a communal sleeping platform, but her?
She gets a whole room to herself.
I suppose she isn’t afraid of being snatched by that Painted Skin Ghost in the middle of the night and having her skin flayed to make a lantern…”
“Sister Cui Wei, she’s not afraid.
Who knows, maybe if the Painted Skin Ghost saw her, it would even have to call her ancestor.”
Two other servant girls chimed in, their eyes brimming with malice.
“Exactly.
How clean can the hands of someone who deals with livestock all day really be?”
“Maybe that skin-flaying technique is her family’s ancestral craft.”
The three of them burst into laughter together.
Ci’er stopped in her tracks and turned around.
Her movements were very slow.
Her gaze shifted from Cui Wei’s face to the two girls beside her, looking at them one by one.
Her eyes were terrifyingly calm, and the air seemed to freeze.
Cui Wei felt a chill creep into her heart under that stare, but she stubbornly tilted her chin up.
“What, am I wrong?
Which one of us here doesn’t have a clean background, struggling our way up from the first round of selections?
But you?
You barged in halfway and even get to live in a room by yourself.
Who knows what your real background is?
If you turn out to be some runaway criminal and drag us down with you, who will take the blame?”
Ci’er did not speak.
Setting her washbasin on the ground, she strode right up to Cui Wei, reached out, and snatched the pouch from her waist.
She held it high above her head and gave a strange smile.
“You lunatic, give it back!” Cui Wei shrieked, standing on her tiptoes to grab it.
“My mother left that to me—give it back!”
Expressionless, Ci’er swung her arm.
The pouch drew an arc in the air and fell squarely into the well.
“My pouch!
You bitch—” Cui Wei’s eyes turned red, and she lunged forward to tear into her.
Ci’er didn’t dodge.
She raised her hand and delivered a sharp slap across her face.
“If you suspect me, go report me to the officials.
You can claim the two hundred and fifty taels of reward silver and live in luxury.
What are you standing around for?
Go.”
Cui Wei covered her face, her lips trembling, unable to utter a single word.
According to the Great Jing Law, false accusers suffered the punishment intended for the accused.
If those ruthless wolves from the Embroidery Bureau came and found nothing on Ci’er, Cui Wei would be the one facing a lawsuit and a beating.
As for the two hundred and fifty taels of silver—she would have to survive to spend it.
“I was just saying it casually!
If you don’t have a guilty conscience, why are you so anxious?”
“Ridiculous,” Ci’er said.
“Today you call me a runaway criminal.
Tomorrow, will you accuse Aunt Cui of harboring a fugitive?
If word of this gets out, who will be the one dragging everyone down?”
The faces of the giggling girls nearby all changed.
The Prince of Nine Bestowments administered the government on behalf of the Emperor, acting as Regent.
Even the reigning young emperor had to address him respectfully as “Shang Fu”.
The Prince Mansion had stringent protocols where rules were paramount.
Although this was merely a maid selection, the required household registrations and indentures were meticulously checked; how could they possibly allow a runaway criminal to slip in? Enjoying the story? Read on at g.com.
If this matter blew up, the first ones dragged off to be beaten would undoubtedly be those gossiping in private.
Cui Wei was so terrified that she couldn’t even speak clearly.
“Y-you stop trying to crush people with these huge accusations…”
“Yeah, you’re being too petty.
Sister Cui Wei didn’t actually go report you.”
“Did you really have to throw the keepsake her mother left her into the well?”
Ci’er shot a glance at the girls defending her.
“Then why don’t you report me for her?
Two hundred and fifty taels is enough to buy each of you a new coffin, where you can lie down and gossip for the rest of your lives.”
The girls flushed red with anger, clamoring as they prepared to start a brawl.
“Do you all have too much time on your hands?!” A harsh reprimand echoed from the narrow alleyway.
Aunt Cui approached with a dark expression.
She wore a dark-burgundy long jacket, her hair combed meticulously without a single strand out of place.
Clutching a stack of registers in her hand, her brows were twisted into a tight knot.
“There aren’t many days left until the final selection.
Every single one of you had better watch your step!
The threshold of the Prince Mansion is high; it’s not a place just any random stray can enter.
Whether you end up serving before the masters or acting like dogs washing chamber pots depends entirely on this.”
She paused, her gaze slicing sharply across the faces of the girls.
“You should know in your hearts what kind of person can catch a noble’s eye.
You few all have potential; don’t ruin your own paths.”
The girls turned pale from the scolding, each lowering their heads, not daring to make a peep.
Cui Wei was still sobbing, but after the person beside her tugged at her sleeve, she lowered her head as well.
“Ci’er,” Aunt Cui called out.
“You, stay behind.”
Once everyone had dispersed, Ms.
Cui took her hand and walked a few steps down the corridor.
She looked around before lowering her voice.
“I’m going to ask you something, and you must tell me the truth.”
Ci’er nodded.
Ms.
Cui asked, “That day outside the Embroidery Bureau, did the Young Master truly invite you into the hall to speak?”
“He did,” Ci’er said.
“But I didn’t go.”
“You didn’t?” Ms.
Cui’s eyes widened, and her voice rose a pitch.
“Why didn’t you go?
That is an opportunity others could only dream of!”
Ci’er smiled faintly.
Her tone was flat and plain, yet every word was crystal clear.
“I am of lowly birth.
What would I know about a case?
If I had rashly gone inside to answer questions, I would have exposed my ignorance in just a few words.
The loss would outweigh the gain, and I’d only bring shame to you, Aunt Cui.”
Ms.
Cui was stunned for a moment.
In the next second, her brows relaxed, and she patted Ci’er’s hand, nodding repeatedly.
“Good, good.
You are a smart one.” After she finished smiling, her voice dropped lower again.
“During this selection, if you are chosen by the Young Master, don’t forget to help out Aunt Cui in the future.”
“Rest assured, Aunt Cui.” Ci’er held her hand in return, her tone sincere.
“When my father was alive, he often said that just as livestock remember their feeding troughs, people must remember gratitude.
Whoever gives you a bite to eat or a piece of clothing must be remembered for a lifetime.
I will remember Aunt Cui’s kindness as well.”
Aunt Cui was deeply comforted by these words.
Beaming from ear to ear, she patted the back of Ci’er’s hand continuously.
“Alright, alright, there’s no need for such talk.
Hurry over to the corner hall in the front courtyard; someone is looking for you.”
Ci’er went as instructed.
The door to the corner hall was open.
Inside stood a woman in her early twenties, her hair styled in a neat, round bun.
She wore a plain silk, cross-collared jacket and skirt with a white protective collar, and a pea-green silk ribbon tied around her waist.
Her entire ensemble featured only a single silver bracelet on her wrist, and a cool aloofness radiated from her brow—
“Ci’er?” The woman spoke flatly the moment she saw her.
“Come with me.”