Chapter 82
Chapter 82
“Sister Shengsheng!”
“Sister Shengsheng, you’re back!”
The moment Shengsheng stepped through the gate of Qianyi Palace, familiar voices greeted her.
She looked over and saw face after familiar face, mixed with several strangers who must have arrived while she was away.
Xiaopingzi and Xiangxiang, the two closest to her, rushed over first.
Shengsheng smiled at them. “You’ve gained weight.”
Xiaopingzi fell silent.
So did Xiangxiang.
Their Sister Shengsheng remained as gifted at conversation as ever.
While the three spoke, the palace maids and eunuchs who had once worked under Shengsheng gathered around. Qianyi Palace became unusually lively.
Among the servants who stared blankly at Shengsheng because they did not know her, one young palace maid stood beneath a corridor pillar and watched with open hostility.
Shengsheng was highly sensitive to malice. She quickly looked back.
“Who is that? I haven’t seen her before.”
Xiangxiang leaned close and whispered, “His Majesty sent her over just now.”
Shengsheng raised an eyebrow.
So she belonged to the same camp as that petty Ren Xiao.
“All right, everyone, disperse and return to work. I still need to serve His Grace.”
At the Noble Consort’s fearsome reputation, everyone immediately scattered and resumed their duties.
The Jiang family had appeared outside the city gate to collect Zhiyu as though they had smelled her arrival. Heaven knew where they learned the news.
Fortunately, Shengsheng had long explained the Jiang family’s relationships to Zhiyu, along with how she behaved before losing her memory. Shengsheng knew the original novel by heart and understood the Jiang family’s sordid affairs better than anyone.
Still uneasy, she asked Meiren to accompany Zhiyu while pretending to be her maid.
Meiren was clever. With her present, Shengsheng could relax somewhat.
Entering Fusheng’s familiar bedchamber, Shengsheng immediately noticed a pure-white bird on the perch.
*Holy crap. The faded bird?*
Though she swore inwardly in surprise, her face did not change.
“This servant greets Your Grace the Noble Consort.”
Shengsheng glanced at Ren Xiao, then walked over and forcibly squeezed him aside. Taking his place, she lifted the teapot and poured for Fusheng.
Murderous intent flashed through Ren’s eyes.
While Shengsheng poured, he stepped forward and bowed respectfully to Fusheng.
“Your Grace, the person His Majesty bestowed is still waiting outside. Shall she be summoned for questioning?”
Fusheng ate cherries one by one and did not answer.
Years of mutual understanding allowed Shengsheng to comprehend him instantly. She turned with an exceptionally friendly smile.
“Eunuch Xiao, His Grace is tired. Tell the palace servants outside not to enter and disturb his rest.”
Ren’s face darkened. “What are you, to speak in His Grace’s place?”
Shengsheng’s expression did not change. Her voice remained calm.
“How could Eunuch say such a thing? This servant would never dare decide for His Grace. But if Eunuch disturbs his rest, that would truly be a crime deserving ten thousand deaths.”
Ren choked. After checking Fusheng’s face, he bowed and withdrew.
Fusheng spat out a cherry pit and thought absently:
Whatever else might be said, Tail was indeed more useful.
Ren walked out with a stormy face. The young maid waiting outside hurried toward him.
“Eunuch Xiao, how did it–”
Before she could finish, Ren slapped her to the ground.
The maid held her cheek and stared at him in disbelief, tears streaming.
“Useless!” Ren Xiao cursed.
He glared viciously at the clearly frightened onlookers and asked hoarsely, “Do none of you want your eyes anymore?”
Everyone hastily withdrew their gaze and lowered their heads to work.
Inside, Shengsheng removed the fruit platter from Fusheng’s table, wearing precisely the right amount of concern.
“Your Grace, eating too much of this causes internal heat. It is not good for your health.”
Ordinarily, Fusheng would have called her meddlesome and ordered her to return it.
This time, he said nothing and let her take it away.
Shengsheng was thoroughly shocked. This was an armor-piercing level of silence.
*No way. Fusheng Duan, have you fallen in love with me? I know I’m beautiful, gentle, kind, steady in my actions, graceful in every movement, and extraordinarily lovable, but the two of us…*
But the two of them what?
Shengsheng suddenly could not say.
The two of them?
Fusheng also waited for the answer, but her inner voice offered no continuation.
“Your Grace, is this bird yours?” Shengsheng asked, breaking the silence that had begun to feel wrong.
Fusheng glanced at her, unreadable emotions dark in his eyes.
“Yes.”
Shengsheng nodded. “This servant saw him in Zhen. So he belongs to Your Grace.”
Instead of replying, Fusheng said, “His name is Qingbai.”
Shengsheng stared.
In a certain sense, Fusheng truly possessed a genius for naming.
*If the bird ran away, would Fusheng shout, “My innocence! My innocence is gone!”?*
Fusheng fell silent.
Thank you for the warning. He would never do that.
That evening, after helping Fusheng retire, Shengsheng returned to her room.
She hid all her possessions and tidied up. She hung the little goldfish wind chime entrusted to her by Zhiyu beside the window, then took out the hairpin Fusheng had given her.
She could wear it briefly tomorrow.
In a good mood, she hummed a few lines.
“Sister, don’t you fret. If no young man appears, find an old one instead. Old men are wonderful, old men are fine–their hair is just as sparse as mine.”
Rong Li, crouched in the tree outside, fell silent.
Another night of furious writing began.
“At midnight, Zhou returned to her room. Her ideal sweetheart is a man over seventy.”
Fusheng, whose eyes had already closed, silently opened them in the darkness.
In the lightless room, he walked to the window and opened it.
A crescent moon hung in the sky. By its dim glow, he saw a slip of paper beside the window.
He unfolded it without hesitation.
Only two words appeared:
“Jiang estate.”
* * *
“Would you like to see Zhiyu Jiang?”
The unexpected question made Shengsheng’s hand pause. Tea nearly overflowed the cup.
“Your Grace?”
She set down the teapot and looked at him in confusion.
Fusheng rose from the couch and walked outside. When she failed to follow, he looked back.
“Are you not coming?”
Shengsheng hurried after him.
*Has Fusheng taken the wrong medicine lately? Why is he treating me so well?*
His steps halted. Lost in thought, Shengsheng nearly collided with his back.
Fusheng turned again. His lowered lashes shadowed complicated black eyes. He glanced unobtrusively at the hairpin she wore, and rare helplessness entered his voice.
“Use your head.”
This was not kindness, fool.