Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The bathwater was warm, and for a moment, I felt dazed.

It had been a very long time since I had last wiped myself down with hot water.

But soon, the sting of the rough cleansing powder scraping against my skin dragged me back to myself.

After changing into the standard gray cloth palace attire, the stiff fabric rubbed harshly against my freshly washed skin.

We were led to a large room with a communal platform bed and crowded together. No one spoke all night. There were only suppressed sobs and the creak of wooden boards whenever someone turned over.

I lay there with my eyes open, staring at the moonlight seeping in through the window, cut into pieces by the lattice. It looked cold and unfamiliar.

The rules in the palace were endless and severe.

There were set ways to stand, to walk, to lower one’s head, and to answer when spoken to.

If you stood too long and bent your knees at the wrong angle, the ruler would come down at once, leaving a burning pain.

If your voice was too soft when answering, you would be punished for being unclear.

If your voice was too loud, you would be punished for being disruptive.

Every day was nothing but repeated practice: kneeling, kowtowing, hurrying forward in small steps, standing still with bated breath.

Nanny Zhang did not speak much, but every word struck hard at the heart.

“If you want to live long in the palace, remember this rule: listen more, look less, speak less. Those who can’t control their eyes and mouths end up with taller grass on their graves than anyone else.”

I chewed those words to pieces and swallowed them down.

Among the girls learning the rules with us was one named Lingzhu. She was the youngest, with big, bright eyes that always carried a timid sort of curiosity.

She always secretly hid half of a coarse flour bun in her arms, unwilling to finish it. It was as hard as a rock. Sometimes, when Nanny Zhang was not paying attention, she would quickly slip it to the girl who cried in secret from hunger at night.

She was also beaten the most, because she could never quite learn to lower her head completely. Her eyes could not help darting around in secret.

That afternoon, we were practicing standing with our heads lowered beneath the corridor when faint music and footsteps suddenly came from the distance, drawing closer and closer.

It was the ceremonial procession of some imperial consort.

We immediately buried our heads even lower, wishing we could shrink into our own necks.

There was the rustle of splendid embroidered robes trailing across the ground, the delicate chime of jade pendants knocking together, and a faint fragrant breeze drifting past.

I stared at the three feet of ground before my eyes. All I could see were the toes of exquisite embroidered shoes and the edges of sweeping skirts passing by, like flowers blooming above the clouds.

Beside me, Lingzhu seemed to move slightly.

From the corner of my eye, I saw her head lift by the tiniest fraction. In those big eyes of hers, perhaps there was reflected a splendor she had never even imagined.

The procession passed.

The footsteps faded.

Dead silence.

At some point, Nanny Zhang had appeared in front of us, her face livid.

Step by step, she walked up to Lingzhu.

“Just now, what were you looking at?”