The rear hall was smaller than the main hall, but more exquisitely arranged. By the window, a heated couch was covered with sable fur rugs. On the tea table were fruit plates and pastries, while the brazier burned warmly, filling the air with a sweet, heated fragrance as soon as one entered.
Lady Tatala walked ahead, turning back to greet Ning Nuannuan. “Sister-in-law, come sit. The floor heating in Yongkun Palace is strong—don’t stand on ceremony.”
She was the primary consort of the Fifth Prince, Yinqi. Having been married for over a decade, she was well-versed in serving before Consort Yi, and carried herself with the natural authority of a hostess. Consort Yi had borne two sons—the Fifth Prince and the Ninth Prince. As the elder brother’s wife, Lady Tatala was nominally Ning Nuannuan’s senior.
As Ning Nuannuan entered the rear hall and had barely taken her seat, the young woman in the lotus-colored banner dress followed in.
Seen up close, the woman was indeed striking. An oval face, delicate brows, bright eyes, and fair, luminous skin. Her figure was slender. The kingfisher feather phoenix hairpin on her head was of excellent quality, and the red coral bracelet on her wrist was made of perfectly rounded beads—clearly the upbringing of a distinguished household.
“Sister-in-law, come, let me introduce you.” Lady Tatala sat in the main seat and beckoned to the woman. “This is Eighth Sister-in-law, Lady Guo’luoluo.”
The Eighth Prince’s primary consort.
Ning Nuannuan quickly recalled—Lady Guo’luoluo, daughter of Prince Consort Mingshang and granddaughter of Prince An, Yue Le. In terms of background, she ranked among the top three of all the princes’ consorts.
Lady Guo’luoluo nodded at Ning Nuannuan with a faint smile.
It wasn’t cold, but neither was it warm. It carried an innate sense of nobility—not unfriendly, just that she didn’t regard you as someone on the same level.
“Ninth Sister-in-law,” Lady Guo’luoluo spoke, her tone perfectly measured, “I’ve long wanted to meet you, but never had the chance.”
“Eighth Sister-in-law,” Ning Nuannuan replied, taking a seat near the door.
The three women sat down, and maids served tea. The tea at Yongkun Palace was tribute-grade Da Hong Pao—amber in color, rich in aroma.
Ning Nuannuan lifted the cup and took a sip. Before she could swallow, Lady Tatala began speaking.
“Sister-in-law, the fabric of your banner dress is quite nice. Is it from your dowry?”
“Yes.”
“The gold filigree hair ornaments are lovely as well.” Lady Tatala’s gaze swept over Ning Nuannuan’s accessories. “Though the style is a bit outdated. From which year are they? The Imperial Household Department released new designs the year before last—I could have some sent to you?”
Her meaning was clear: what you’re wearing is out of fashion.
Ning Nuannuan set down her teacup. “Thank you for your concern, Fifth Sister-in-law. I can wear anything—I’m not particular about such things.”
Lady Guo’luoluo held her teacup silently, not responding, but the slight curve of her lips showed she had taken it in.
Lady Tatala’s gaze shifted again, landing on Ning Nuannuan’s hands—resting on her knees, with slightly prominent knuckles and short-trimmed nails, unpainted. Compared to Lady Guo’luoluo’s delicate, fair, and tender hands, they seemed like those of entirely different beings.
“What do you do for leisure at home? You must have studied at least one of the arts—music, chess, calligraphy, or painting?” Lady Tatala asked casually, as if chatting.
Ning Nuannuan thought about the original owner’s skill set—completely empty. She knew none of them.
“I haven’t studied any.”
Lady Tatala paused slightly with her teacup.
Lady Guo’luoluo finally spoke, “Ninth Sister-in-law, no need to be modest. The Dong’e family is a scholarly household—how could you not have learned anything?”
“I’m not being modest. I truly don’t know any,” Ning Nuannuan replied plainly.
The rear hall fell silent for two seconds.
Lady Tatala and Lady Guo’luoluo exchanged a glance. The meaning was obvious: as expected—crude and unrefined.
Ning Nuannuan noticed their reaction but didn’t take it to heart. Among women in the inner palace, competition was nothing more than comparing background, talents, husbands’ favor, and ornaments. She had no advantage in any of these areas, nor did she intend to compete on those fronts.
“Then what do you usually do in the residence?” Lady Tatala pressed.
“Review accounts.”
“Review… accounts?”
“Yes, the household’s income and expenses.”
Lady Tatala set down her teacup, her expression turning slightly subtle. A prince’s primary consort personally reviewing accounts wasn’t improper, but it wasn’t exactly something to boast about either. Managing finances was the duty of a household mistress, but ladies of good families usually prefaced it with refined hobbies before casually mentioning they also handled domestic matters. Ning Nuannuan’s blunt answer—“review accounts”—was equivalent to declaring: I’m just someone who manages money.
Lady Guo’luoluo stirred the tea leaves with her lid.
“Ninth Sister-in-law is practical,” she said.
Her tone was neutral—neither praise nor criticism.
Ning Nuannuan ignored the comment and took another sip of the Da Hong Pao. It was quite good.
Lady Tatala changed the subject. “Speaking of which, you’ve been married for some time now. Can you handle Ninth Brother’s temper?”
Ning Nuannuan thought for a moment. “It’s fine.”
“Fine?” Lady Tatala laughed. “Ninth Brother has been stubborn since childhood, sharp-tongued and difficult. When I first married in, he was barely ten and already arguing with everyone—even the Fifth Prince couldn’t control him. If you can make him behave, that’s real skill.”
Ning Nuannuan wasn’t sure if Yintang counted as “behaving.” More accurately, he was afraid. There was still a long distance between fear and obedience—but it was heading in the right direction.
“He’s quite good,” she gave a vague answer.
Lady Guo’luoluo tapped lightly on her teacup lid.
“Ninth Sister-in-law, I have a question I perhaps shouldn’t ask.”
“Eighth Sister-in-law, please speak.”
“I heard you… put Wanyan Shi on the roof?”
As soon as those words were spoken, Tatala Shi’s expression changed as well. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she waited to see how Ning Nuannuan would respond.
This was the second time today this matter had been brought up. Consort Yi had asked about it once in the main hall, and now Guo Luoluo Shi brought it up again.
The information network of Yongkun Palace was truly formidable.
Ning Nuannuan held her teacup steadily.
“I’ve already explained Wanyan Shi’s matter to Mother—it was to let her get some air.”
“Get some air.” Guo Luoluo Shi repeated it, her lips curving faintly. “You really are broad-minded, Sister-in-law.”
“If I weren’t, I wouldn’t survive long.”
Guo Luoluo Shi’s fingers paused.
At first glance, it sounded like self-deprecation. But upon closer thought, the meaning was off. What did “wouldn’t survive long” imply? Was she referring to the hardships of marrying into a prince’s residence, or hinting at something deeper?
Tatala Shi smoothed things over from the side. “Alright, alright, it’s just casual talk among sisters-in-law, don’t take it seriously. Younger Sister has just entered the household—there’s a lot to manage, take it slowly.”
Ning Nuannuan gave a quiet “mm.”
For the next half hour, the conversation circled among the three of them. Tatala Shi spoke about recent rewards from the palace—what treasures certain consorts had received, which Madam had acquired new jewelry. Guo Luoluo Shi mentioned a couple of trivial court matters—news coming from the Eighth Prince’s residence. Nothing particularly important, but perfectly timed to showcase that her husband was well-informed.
Ning Nuannuan didn’t say a single word—not because she didn’t want to, but because she had nothing to add. She didn’t care who received what reward, nor was she interested in court gossip.
Her silence made Tatala Shi and Guo Luoluo Shi increasingly at ease. The more they talked, the more relaxed they became. By the end, a subtle understanding formed—they treated Ning Nuannuan as background.
A younger sister-in-law who didn’t excel in music, chess, calligraphy, or painting, wore outdated ornaments, and only knew how to check accounts—she wasn’t worth much attention.
Ning Nuannuan sat near the door, quietly sipping her tea.
She was listening.
When Tatala Shi mentioned that “the Imperial Household Department recently distributed a batch of new materials,” she casually added, “Fifth Prince got his allocation through the Tongjia family.” The Tongjia family—Tong Guowei’s branch, loosely aligned with the Crown Prince’s faction. Although the Fifth Prince didn’t involve himself in succession struggles, his connections leaned toward the Crown Prince. That was useful information.
When Guo Luoluo Shi spoke of “Eighth Prince recently renovating his study,” she casually mentioned, “He even hired two Western craftsmen to install glass windows.” Glass windows—still a rare novelty in this era. If the Eighth Prince was spending heavily on such luxuries, it meant he wasn’t short on funds. Then why had he asked Yin Jiu for fifty thousand taels just days ago?
Ning Nuannuan stored these fragments of information one by one in her mind.
After another while, Eunuch Liu Xi came to deliver a message—Consort Yi invited Ninth Master and Ninth Madam to stay for lunch.
Lunch was arranged in a side hall of the main palace. Consort Yi sat at the head, Yin Jiu and Ning Nuannuan on the left, Tatala Shi on the right, while Guo Luoluo Shi excused herself and returned to the Eighth Prince’s residence.
The meal was elaborate—twelve dishes, six meat and six vegetarian, along with a serving of bird’s nest soup.
Ning Nuannuan had a good appetite. Though this body lacked strength, its digestion was excellent. She ate two bowls of rice and finished most of the dishes in front of her.
Consort Yi’s brows twitched slightly as she watched.
Beside her, Tatala Shi delicately picked at vegetables, chewing slowly. She barely finished a third of her bowl of rice after a long time.
Yin Jiu sat between them—on one side, a wife eating heartily; across from him, a sister-in-law eating as elegantly as a cat. He lowered his head silently, focusing on the rice in his bowl.
After lunch, Consort Yi spoke privately with Yin Jiu for a moment—Ning Nuannuan was asked to wait outside.
She stood beneath the corridor of Yongkun Palace as the autumn wind swept through, chilling the tip of her nose again.
“Ninth Madam.”
A voice came from behind.
Ning Nuannuan turned—it was a maid from Guo Luoluo Shi’s side, dressed in the attire of the Eighth Prince’s residence, holding a carved wooden box.
“Our Madam asked me to deliver this as a meeting gift for Ninth Madam. She didn’t have the chance to give it last time.”
Ning Nuannuan accepted the box and opened it—a pair of white jade bracelets, flawless and of excellent quality, worth at least two to three hundred taels.
The Eighth Madam was indeed generous.
“Please thank Eighth Sister-in-law for me,” Ning Nuannuan said, closing the box.
The maid bowed and left.
Ning Nuannuan handed the box to the young maid behind her, tucking her hands into her sleeves.
This gift from Guo Luoluo Shi came suddenly. She hadn’t mentioned it during their long conversation in the rear hall—only sending it after leaving. It wasn’t forgetfulness; it was deliberate timing.
Why?
Because Tatala Shi wasn’t present.
The Fifth Prince and Eighth Prince were not on the same side. In front of Tatala Shi, Guo Luoluo Shi wouldn’t get too close to the Ninth Madam. Only when Fifth Sister-in-law was out of sight did she complete the gesture.
This was the style of the Eighth Prince’s household—smooth in all directions, flawless in execution.
Yet precisely because it was so flawless, it made one feel that every drop of water concealed intent.