In the blink of an eye, another four or five days had passed.
The weather outside the window had grown warmer. Half of the bamboo blinds hanging along the corridor were rolled up, and whenever the wind passed, they lightly tapped against the vermilion-painted railing. A faint medicinal scent still lingered in the main courtyard, though it was no longer as heavy and oppressive as it had been a few days ago.
During these days, Wen Yunyi had been recuperating.
Though it was called recuperation, it was far from peaceful. During the day, she drank medicine, ate, and rested, but at night she could never sleep deeply. The hollow ache in her abdomen came and went, sometimes light, sometimes heavy. With the slightest turn, it felt as though something was reminding her what this body had gone through.
But no matter how uncomfortable she felt, she couldn’t remain confined within the bed curtains forever.
That day, after lunch, with the sun shining just right, Bai Lan persuaded her to get out of bed and walk a little. Wen Yunyi considered it and did not refuse.
Over the past few days, she had managed to stabilize her condition somewhat. Though still weak, she would no longer feel dizzy or black out upon standing. Besides, if she kept her doors shut, she would only ever hear about the state of the main courtyard and the Duke’s Manor through Bai Lan and Qing Tao. She trusted what she saw with her own eyes more.
Qing Tao took a casual outer robe from the rack.
It was a jade-colored Hangzhou silk jacket. The material wasn’t particularly luxurious, but it was soft, with fine silver thread edging in cloud patterns. Underneath was a moon-white inner garment, paired with a pale lotus-colored skirt. The colors were light, yet the fabric’s natural sheen prevented them from looking dull. Instead, they softened Wen Yunyi’s originally overly striking features.
Bai Lan supported her as they walked toward the main hall.
Passing through the inner chamber’s gauze curtains, they were greeted by a rosewood screen inlaid with jade. Behind it stood a couch and a round table, with tall stands at each corner. The room still appeared neat, but after standing there for only a moment, Wen Yunyi noticed something off.
The hand warmer by the window was slightly out of place, shifted half an inch. The fine cotton cloth draped beside it hadn’t been folded properly. In the corner, the white magnolia plant that had once been well-tended now showed signs of wilting—clearly neglected for days. Even the young maidservant attending the curtains froze for a moment upon seeing her before hurriedly bowing, her movements delayed compared to before.
That single moment of hesitation was enough.
Wen Yunyi said nothing. Supported by Bai Lan, she sat down on the couch by the window. Her expression was calm, her gaze even calmer. A single sweep of her eyes silenced the servants, leaving none daring to look around carelessly.
After a while, a faint commotion arose outside.
It sounded like someone speaking in low tones at the courtyard gate. Soon, a young maidservant came in to report, “Your Ladyship, Yin Zhu from Concubine Jiang’s side has come, saying she is delivering something on Concubine Jiang’s behalf.”
Bai Lan and Qing Tao instinctively looked at Wen Yunyi.
Wen Yunyi lifted her eyes slightly. “Let her in.”
The maidservant withdrew.
Not long after, Yin Zhu entered. She wore a light apricot vest over a willow-green skirt, looking neat and refreshing. She carried a small redwood tray, followed by another maidservant holding a gilded box.
After entering, Yin Zhu bowed properly. “Greetings, Your Ladyship.”
Her tone was steady—respectful, yet not overly flattering.
Wen Yunyi glanced at her. “Rise. What has Concubine Jiang sent?”
As Yin Zhu stood, she wore a perfectly measured smile. “Concubine Jiang heard that Your Ladyship has been able to get out of bed these past few days and felt glad, so she asked this servant to deliver some items.”
She gestured for the maid behind her to open the box.
Inside were neatly arranged supplements: donkey-hide gelatin, ginseng slices, fine rice, dried longan, a small packet of warming pills, and even honey-preserved dried tangerine peel carefully wrapped in oil paper for brewing medicine.
With just a glance, Qing Tao’s expression changed slightly.
It wasn’t because the gift was extravagant—but because it was too complete.
So complete… it looked more proper than what the main courtyard itself had been receiving lately.
Yin Zhu seemed not to notice the subtle shift in the room and continued with a gentle smile. “Concubine Jiang said she is not good with words and fears that speaking too much might trouble Your Ladyship. So she only asked this servant to convey that Your Ladyship must take care of your health above all.”
Her words were impeccable—flawless.
Leaning against the couch, Wen Yunyi’s gaze swept over the items one by one. Her expression showed no discomfort, only calm indifference. “Concubine Jiang is thoughtful.”
Yin Zhu quickly replied, “Your Ladyship’s words are too kind. Concubine Jiang said that you are the mistress of the main courtyard. It is only right for her to do this.”
It was a beautifully crafted statement—humble, yet elevating Jiang Yunzhi’s grace.
Wen Yunyi actually smiled faintly. “Concubine Jiang is indeed considerate.”
Yin Zhu lowered her eyes. “Concubine only wishes to show her sincerity.”
Wen Yunyi did not respond further, only said to Qing Tao, “Put it away.”
Qing Tao acknowledged and stepped forward to take the box. Seeing her task completed smoothly, Yin Zhu relaxed, bowed, and withdrew with her maid.
Wen Yunyi reached out and began to examine the items.
She wasn’t skilled in medicine, but the original owner’s memories remained. Over the past few days, Bai Lan had recited the prescriptions given by the Imperial Physician, so she had a general understanding. As she reached the bottom of the box, she suddenly touched a small packet of thinly sliced astragalus and paused.
“Bai Lan,” she asked, holding up the packet, “does the Imperial Physician’s prescription include astragalus?”
Bai Lan was momentarily stunned, then answered immediately, “Yes.”
“And the medicine sent from the pharmacy these past few days?”
Bai Lan’s face changed instantly. “The last two batches were missing astragalus. The pharmacy said they were temporarily out of stock and were waiting for a new supply.”
Qing Tao immediately understood, her voice lowering. “The main courtyard is told there’s none, yet Concubine Jiang’s gift contains it?”
The room fell silent.
A breeze slipped through the half-raised bamboo blinds, gently swaying the slender-necked white porcelain vase on the table. A petal from the begonia inside trembled and fell.
Looking down at the herbs in her hand, Wen Yunyi’s final vague suspicion solidified.
If it were only meals arriving less warm, it could be dismissed as negligence. But if even prescribed medicine could be withheld, it was no longer carelessness—it meant someone believed the main courtyard was no longer worth the effort.
Worse still, this neglect wasn’t isolated. It had spread throughout the household.
She suddenly found it somewhat amusing.
The original owner had caused such chaos, yet in the end couldn’t even maintain order in her own courtyard.
Qing Tao flushed with anger. “This is too much! This servant will go to the pharmacy—”
“Come back.” Wen Yunyi set down the astragalus. Her voice wasn’t loud, but it stopped Qing Tao in her tracks.
“What do you think you’ll find if you go now?” she said, lifting her eyes. “Do you really think the pharmacy dared to short the main courtyard’s medicine on a whim?”
Her face was still pale, her illness lending her a cold, sharpened look. Yet her gaze was clear, her expression steady—making it obvious she already had a plan.
Bai Lan asked softly, “What does Your Ladyship intend to do?”
Wen Yunyi didn’t answer immediately. After scanning the items again, she suddenly asked, “Who has been most active going in and out of the courtyard these past few days?”
Bai Lan thought for a moment. “There’s an old servant, Madam Zhao. She used to run errands like delivering tea. Recently, she’s been unusually active—going to the kitchen, the pharmacy, even the side gate. When Yin Zhu came the other day, she also tried to get close.”
Wen Yunyi nodded, about to speak further, when a familiar hollow pain twisted through her abdomen again. Her fingers instinctively gripped the cushion, her face paling.
Bai Lan quickly supported her. “Your Ladyship should rest.”
After a couple of breaths, Wen Yunyi suppressed the pain. She didn’t force herself, leaning back instead, her voice softer. “Put everything away.”
Qing Tao hurried to tidy up, while Bai Lan adjusted the pillows and draped a shawl over her shoulders.
The room fell quiet, filled only with the soft rustle of fabric.
After a while, a maid brought in fresh tea. When Wen Yunyi took it, her fingertips touched the warm cup, finally feeling a trace of warmth.
She took a sip, then said, “Bai Lan.”
“This servant is here.”
“Keep an eye on Madam Zhao,” Wen Yunyi said after a pause. “I want to see just how many eyes in this courtyard are no longer on my side.”
Qing Tao felt her heart tighten—and strangely, a hint of excitement rose.
Her mistress used to be frightening when angry. But now, though still pale and ill, leaning against the couch, every order she gave carried more weight than before.
She had truly begun to take control of this courtyard.
Bai Lan lowered her head, thinking the same.
The room grew quiet again, filled only with the soft rustling of leaves outside.
Wen Yunyi rested her fingers lightly on the rim of the teacup. After a long pause, she spoke calmly:
“It seems this main courtyard is even livelier than I imagined.”