Chapter 9

Chapter 9

By noon on the day Siran Ming arrived, Shengsheng Zhou’s face had mostly recovered.

The speed was rather strange.

When she returned to her room that night, she found a jade bottle on the table. Beneath it lay a note describing the medicine’s effects and how to apply it.

She took the bottle to the Imperial Medical Bureau and asked a physician she trusted to examine it. Only after he confirmed that it was an excellent ointment for swelling did she use it.

Xiaopingzi and the others must have left it for her.

Her people had not forgotten all the care she had shown them.

When Siran arrived, Fusheng Duan announced that he wanted lotus-root hibiscus cakes and ordered Shengsheng to fetch them personally from the imperial kitchen.

She therefore missed Siran’s entrance.

That was why she was so surprised to find Zhiyu Jiang inside Qianyi Palace.

The heroine clearly recognized her too.

Shengsheng was easy to remember. Her appearance was plain–even among palace maids, she ranked somewhere below average–but a vivid red beauty mark beneath one eye lent color to an otherwise ordinary face.

Seeing that Shengsheng’s cheeks were still slightly swollen, Zhiyu signaled to her with her eyes.

Zhiyu had escaped only by claiming she needed the privy. Otherwise, that great pervert Siran would never have let her out of his sight.

Shengsheng had no desire to become entangled with the heroine outside the plot, but she cooperated.

“Miss, are you looking for something?” she asked with a smile.

Zhiyu grabbed her arm and pulled her away.

“Perfect. I cannot find the privy. Sister, would you show me the way?”

The palace maid who was already pointing toward it fell silent.

Once they reached an empty place, Zhiyu released Shengsheng.

“Are you all right? That night, I went to ask the Noble Consort to save you. I never learned whether he found you.”

Shengsheng’s eyes widened slightly.

Fusheng had gone looking for her?

After the first flicker of surprise, she quickly dismissed the idea.

Impossible. He had probably used her as an excuse to slip away from the banquet for some air.

“Why are you here? Siran Ming did not make things difficult for you that night, did he?”

Shengsheng knew he would not harm a woman who resembled the one he had never forgotten, but courtesy demanded that she ask.

Hearing her use Siran’s name so casually, Zhiyu understood that Shengsheng shared her lack of respect for the ruler of the Yong Kingdom–especially after what had happened the night before.

Her cheeks puffed up.

“He is a pervert! He imprisoned me at his side for no reason, refuses to let me return home, and will not allow me to smile. He is completely insane!”

Zhiyu had indeed hoped to find herself a good husband during the Spring Banquet. At first, she had even entertained thoughts of the emperor. After nearly being beheaded by the Noble Consort on her first night in the palace, however, she abandoned that little ambition.

When a man she met by chance turned out to be the emperor of another kingdom, she had felt a thrill. Perhaps, like a heroine in a storybook, she was destined for a magnificent romance.

Who could have guessed that the emperor was a deranged pervert? He had people slapped for praising him! His behavior toward her made no sense at all.

Shengsheng swallowed her laughter.

The heroine had begun with much the same attitude toward Siran in the original, hadn’t she?

She was supposed to rebuke him with shy fury, prettily calling him a pervert.

Shengsheng studied Zhiyu’s cheeks, puffed like an angry pufferfish.

There was no shyness, and certainly nothing coy about it.

The fury, however, was genuine.

That probably would not affect the plot.

She was about to soothe the heroine when Xiaopingzi’s anxious voice came from behind them.

“Sister Shengsheng! It is time for the meal!”

Shengsheng’s expression changed.

“Miss Jiang, have Xiaopingzi take you back. I have something urgent to do.”

She pulled the panting eunuch in front of Zhiyu, gathered her skirts, and ran.
*A-Pang! Is it ready?*

The chubby red panda flew out of Shengsheng Zhou’s hair.

[Do not worry. Just watch me.]

[But where are we putting it?]

***

“It has been five years since we last met.”

Siran Ming toyed with a delicate wine cup, an amused smile on his lips as he examined Fusheng Duan’s current appearance.

Siran wore a black robe with a contrasting collar, its sleeves embroidered in coiling gold dragons. Even in another emperor’s harem, a lightless black sword hung arrogantly at his waist.

Foreign blood gave his features a sharper depth than most. He possessed a face handsome enough to set hearts racing, yet the dense aura of slaughter around him overwhelmed his looks. Anyone who saw him noticed the danger first.

Ignoring Siran’s peculiar stare, Fusheng nodded coolly.

“Indeed, Your Majesty.”

Zhiyu Jiang sat stiffly beside Siran, barely daring to move.

She was starving. How much longer were these two going to talk?

“Your Majesty has excellent taste. You have barely arrived, yet already found yourself a beauty for company.”

Fusheng glanced toward Zhiyu, mockery glinting in his eyes.

Siran made no comment. When an attendant stepped forward to refill his wine, he narrowed his eyes at the maid’s face.

Shengsheng, acting in her capacity as a maid of Qianyi Palace, merely lowered her gaze beneath his direct stare.

*What are you looking at? Never seen a beauty capable of toppling kingdoms before?*

The familiar voice rang in Siran’s mind. He immediately remembered where he had seen this maid.

So she belonged to Fusheng’s palace.

After a moment’s consideration, Siran pretended he had heard nothing.

“Leaving me aside, the quality of the servants in Your Highness’s palace is truly unimpressive.”

Fusheng’s eyes flickered. He gave Siran a suspicious look.

“Virtue stands first among all merits. Your Majesty places too much importance on outward beauty.” He shook his head with a sigh.

Shengsheng almost nodded before catching herself.

Wasn’t that the same as admitting she was ugly?

“Tail, His Majesty has spoken. Withdraw.”

She froze.

*What? Then what am I supposed to do with the drug?*

At the word *drug*, Siran’s violent gaze snapped toward her.

Shengsheng had still been searching for an excuse to remain. Now she made herself scarce so quickly that her feet might as well have been greased.

“Noble Consort, has every dish in Qianyi Palace been tested for poison?” Siran’s voice hissed as his sharp gaze fixed on Fusheng.

Fusheng gave a cold laugh, disgust crossing his vivid features.

“If Your Majesty is concerned, you are welcome not to eat.”

Inside, however, his thoughts churned.

Siran Ming could hear Tail’s inner voice too?

Siran took him at his word. He touched none of the food and merely drank his wine while Fusheng ate alone.

Neither man noticed that Zhiyu, seated beside Siran, looked ready to cry.

She wanted to eat!

“That maid beside the Noble Consort is rather pleasing to my eye,” Siran said casually once Fusheng set down his chopsticks.

Fusheng sneered inwardly. Outwardly, he arranged his face into surprise, followed by an enigmatic smile.

“Oh? The Crown Prince of the Zhen Kingdom offered all of Jingzhou in exchange for this maid. What does Your Majesty propose to offer?”

His life, perhaps. Fusheng might consider that.

Unfortunately, Fusheng still had business dealings with Siran and could not say so aloud.

The mention of Jingzhou darkened Siran’s eyes.

After a long silence, he answered, “What about Xunlan Liu’s life?”