Chapter 5
Chapter 5
*There it is! I knew he would say that. Is he a puppy marking his territory? How childish.*
After complaining to A-Pang, Shengsheng Zhou raised a pitiful face and kowtowed to Fusheng Duan.
“Your Highness, with this servant’s present status, how could I dare show my face before you? I have brought shame upon you, Your Highness!”
Her voice shook with grief. She sounded every inch the loyal servant concerned only for her master’s reputation.
Inside, she was far less moving.
*All right, everyone knows you’re my master now. You can stop marking your territory! A-Pang, doesn’t this plot seem ridiculous to you? Fusheng Duan is an imperial consort openly meeting a man from outside the harem. Is no one going to do something about that?*
Weiqing Song raised his teacup to conceal the twitching corners of his mouth. Laughter filled his eyes.
Oh, Fusheng Duan. For all your cunning, you never imagined that your outwardly devoted palace maid thought of you like this.
Fusheng let out a cold laugh.
To Zhiyu Jiang, that laugh sounded like naked mockery.
“I may be a concubine-born daughter, but that gives you no right to ridicule me!”
Fusheng stood at the apex of power, and his pride permitted no offense. He was about to order her dragged away and beheaded when the words stalled on his tongue.
If this woman died, the world would apparently collapse.
“Insolence!” Shenglan shouted furiously from behind him. “You dare insult the Noble Consort to his face? Guards! Drag her out and behead her!”
“Wait!” Seeing that Fusheng did not intend to intervene, Shengsheng immediately raised her voice.
Every gaze turned toward her. She pretended to shrink, lowered her head, and spoke in a timid murmur.
“Your Highness, this young lady saved this servant’s life. If not for her, that wicked slave might already have…”
As though remembering some unspeakable horror, she burst into tears. Her shoulders shook, making her look utterly wretched.
The matron glared, furious yet unable to say a word after having the entire crime dumped on her head.
Weiqing had never encountered such a gifted actress. From the pavilion, he and Fusheng had seen everything the palace maid had done from beginning to end.
Had Weiqing not known the truth, her performance might genuinely have convinced him that she was a helpless victim.
He had once thought the women in his father’s palace represented the pinnacle of hypocrisy. Apparently, there were always greater heights. The Zhu Kingdom had produced a theatrical genius.
Fusheng opened his mouth, but Shenglan seized the chance to speak first.
“Who do you think you are? A slave from the Palace Labor Bureau has no right to ask the Noble Consort for a favor!”
Shengsheng’s shoulders trembled even harder.
*Oh, you are so dead. You dared talk over Fusheng Duan. Can’t you see how angry he is? Oh, right–you’re standing behind him. You can’t. Hee-hee.*
Fusheng was indeed angry.
Suddenly, however, he did not want to give her the satisfaction.
He hated to admit it, but she truly understood him.
“Shenglan. Be silent.”
His voice held no inflection, yet Shenglan began to shake behind him.
Then he turned his languid attention to Zhiyu. “You saved Tail’s life. We will consider that sufficient compensation for your earlier disrespect.”
He plucked a grape from the plate. “Go home and tell Dehuai Jiang that he has raised a fine daughter.”
It was, of course, meant as sarcasm.
Zhiyu heard only lavish praise.
“Thank you, Your Highness.”
Nearly being dragged away to execution had left her frightened and rather aggrieved.
This was nothing like what her mother had promised. Hadn’t she said that every man’s gaze would be drawn to her? Why did this man seem more concerned with that palace maid?
Zhiyu stole a glance at Weiqing and slowly blushed.
If this man fell in love with her, she supposed she would not mind giving him the opportunity to court her.
With Fusheng’s business concluded, Weiqing lifted an arm and pointed at Shengsheng, who stood with her head lowered as if she barely existed.
“I happen to need another attendant. She is pleasing to my eye. Why not give her to me, Noble Consort? From what I have seen, she does not seem to be treated particularly well here.”
Shengsheng’s expression froze.
*Are you out of your mind? Are you seriously out of your mind?*
How had the conversation turned to her?
Pleasing to his eye?
Did Weiqing Song have a fondness for women who crawled out of lakes?
Shengsheng Zhou made an immediate decision. She scurried to Fusheng Duan’s feet, wrapped herself around his leg, and looked up at him with a pitiful, palm-sized face.
“Your Highness, this servant does not want to leave. I will follow only you!”
Her inner voice was less loyal.
*Weiqing Song is rotten to the core. I heard he likes to wash down his meals with blood drawn from his enemies’ hearts. If he sets his sights on me, I’ll never even know how I died! You should be grateful, Ladyboy Consort. Compared with him, I’d much rather serve you.*
The smile on the supposedly grateful Fusheng’s lips deepened.
So the Crown Prince of the Zhen Kingdom had this little habit. He wondered how much such intelligence might fetch on the market.
The bodhi beads spun faster in black-hearted Weiqing’s hand.
“And how much sincerity might Your Highness be prepared to offer?” Fusheng used the tip of his shoe to pry Shengsheng away from his leg.
Weiqing decided he might as well commit fully to the role of villain.
“Summers in the Zhu Kingdom are oppressively hot. Perhaps I should give Jingzhou to the Noble Consort as a retreat from the heat.”
Silence swallowed the pavilion.
*I’m worth that much…?*
Only Shengsheng’s stunned murmur echoed through the two men’s minds.
Fusheng could barely stand to look at her. She had served him for years. How was it possible that she still valued herself so cheaply?
The mention of Jingzhou reminded him of something.
“Was Jingzhou not intended to become Prince Shen’s fief? Such a gift would hardly be proper, Your Highness.”
Weiqing smiled. “To tell the truth, my imperial elder brother lost his memory several days ago, so the matter has been set aside. The Noble Consort is remarkably well informed about the affairs of the Zhen Kingdom.”
The implication was clear: Fusheng knew far too much.
Fusheng neither confirmed nor denied it. The words *prince* and *lost his memory*, however, instantly reminded him of what Shengsheng’s inner voice had said the first time he heard it.
“Jingzhou is an excellent place, but Your Highness should keep it. Tail has served me for many years. The bond between master and servant cannot be bartered for material gain.”
He lifted his teacup and took a sip.
Weiqing would have to be a ghost to believe him.
If their bond could not be bought, had he hallucinated Fusheng asking what “sincerity” the Crown Prince could offer?
“Your Highness, these specially supplied plums are wonderfully sweet. Please try one.”
Shengsheng smiled at Weiqing with enthusiasm but without servility. Springing to her feet, she carried over the plate of plums Fusheng had not touched.
Weiqing gave her an unreadable smile. Had she changed her mind?
Fusheng’s indolence vanished. He fixed Shengsheng with a sharp look.
She watched Weiqing’s jade-like fingers pick up a plum and place it in his mouth. Only then did she set down the plate and retreat.
Silently, she supplied the rest of the line.
*Got problems? Have a soothing sour plum~*
The one who understood none of it and the one who understood only half both fell silent.
Weiqing spat the pit into the hand of an attending maid. Believing that he liked the fruit, she picked up another and, cheeks flushed, offered it to his lips.
“Jian Zhang,” Weiqing said, eyes half closed as his thumb stroked the qilin-eye bodhi beads, “I believe I said that I dislike maids who wear bright colors around me.”
True to his name, Jian Zhang was a young man as restrained and keen as a sheathed blade. He seized the maid by the neck and dragged her away.
Every hair on Shengsheng’s body stood on end. She swore silently that she would never fall into Weiqing Song’s hands.
The hour had grown late, and Weiqing rose to leave.
Before he went, he addressed Shengsheng one last time.
“Little Tail, you interest me. If you can no longer remain with the Noble Consort, come find me.”
He removed a jade pendant from his waist and held it out to her.
After so many years in the palace, Shengsheng recognized quality at a glance.
Before reaching for it, however, she made a show of uncertainty and checked Fusheng’s expression.
Pleased that she at least knew to seek his permission, Fusheng waved a careless hand.
“How could this servant accept anything so precious? Many thanks, Your Highness.”
With that polite refusal, Shengsheng snatched the pendant and stuffed it into her sleeve.
Being afraid of the man and accepting his gift were two entirely separate matters.
Weiqing, who had expected at least a token struggle, quietly withdrew his hand.