Step by Step, Laying Every Careful Move

Stunned amidst the chaos, Yan’er, sensitive and trembling, threw the scissors aside. She muttered, her eyes darting toward the crowd, “It wasn’t me, it wasn’t me, it wasn’t me, you must believe that I didn’t do it.”

“Why are you still standing there? Quickly, help the princess up!” Cuilu shouted from nearby. Several maids rushed over to lift Orelan.

“Call… call the general.” Orelan’s face was as pale as death, her body weak as she leaned heavily against the maid behind her.

“Hurry! Princess, are you all right? I’ll fetch the imperial physician at once.” Cuilu pressed Orelan’s hand and swiftly turned to leave.

Yan’er gazed calmly at Orelan. Suddenly, it all felt like a conspiracy: first, she was punished to kneel in the hall; then Feng He was bound and gravely injured; now, Orelan and her maid staged a pitiful scene. Yan’er no longer panicked. She rose coldly to her feet, ready to face the next act.

Pan Yueyang was summoned to the small courtyard. On the way, the little maid recounted what she had witnessed. Whether Yan’er was truly at fault or not, Orelan would not let her go. Pan Yueyang hurried into the room.

“Husband…” Orelan did not move, but called out weakly to Pan Yueyang.

“Escort the princess back to her chambers to rest.” Pan Yueyang surveyed the mess—Yan’er stood in the center, shards of porcelain littered the floor, a table was overturned, and not far from Orelan lay a pair of scissors. Annoyed, he closed his eyes to compose himself before looking again.

“Husband, I’m all right.” Orelan’s intention was obvious—she meant to shield Yan’er, that wretched woman, and she herself could not just leave.

Pan Yueyang was about to speak when Cuilu’s distant voice interrupted him.

“Princess, princess, I’ve brought the imperial physician!” Cuilu called, panting, with the physician trailing behind her carrying a medicine chest.

Without a word, the physician checked the princess’s pulse and prescribed several calming remedies before taking his leave.

Orelan was quite pleased; Cuilu’s quick thinking had proven useful. The girl’s loyalty had not been in vain.

“Clean this place up, and assign someone to attend to her,” Pan Yueyang ordered, noting Yan’er’s icy silence since his arrival.

“Husband, wait.” Orelan would not let such an opportunity slip by.

“What more do you want? Yan’er is with child; there’s no need to make a spectacle of this.” Pan Yueyang was determined to protect Yan’er.

“I will return to the palace and report to Father at once!” Orelan was furious. Pan Yueyang was blatantly favoring Yan’er. Cuilu, wishing to speak up, caught Pan Yueyang’s fierce glare and shrank back, ultimately saying nothing in Orelan’s defense.

“I am willing to accept any punishment—just spare Feng He. Her wounds have not yet healed; please don’t expel her from the manor,” Yan’er pleaded, kneeling. She was determined to save Feng He.

“What’s going on? Stand and answer me.” Was there more to Feng He’s situation? He hadn’t noticed that she wasn’t present in the room.

Yan’er remained kneeling, her belly slightly rounded. “Feng He is to be expelled. I beg the princess to show mercy and let her remain here to recover. Please don’t marry her off. I am willing to become a servant to repay the princess’s great kindness.” Yan’er bowed her head to the ground in supplication.

“Very well, I agree.” Orelan, surprisingly compliant, gestured for Yan’er to rise. Her aim was achieved: with Yan’er volunteering to be a servant, even if Pan Yueyang wished to protect her, he would be powerless.

“No!” Pan Yueyang shot Yan’er a glare. By sacrificing herself, she was resigning her fate to Orelan’s mercy. Which palace daughter did not harbor a scheming heart?

“Thank you, Princess.” Yan’er deliberately ignored Pan Yueyang, not even glancing at him.

“I am very tired today. Husband, accompany me back to rest.” The first sentence was for the others; the second, she spoke directly to Pan Yueyang.

He stormed off, kicking aside the scissors. Anger burned within him: Yan’er refused his protection and insisted on becoming Orelan’s servant for the sake of that maid, Feng He. Did she not care for the child she carried, their child?

Orelan smiled slyly. “From now on, little sister, you will not live here. Move to the servants’ quarters.”

“What about Feng He?” Yan’er could not bear to see Feng He left without care.

“You’re so troublesome. Fine, bring back that ugly girl and let her stay with you.” Orelan waved her hand impatiently, and Cuilu quickly came to support her.

After a few steps, Orelan turned back to the crowd of idle servants. “Remember this: she is a servant just like you. There is only one mistress here—me. Don’t let me catch you prying into matters that do not concern you. Now, disperse.”

Just after supper, Pan Yueyang received an imperial summons. Emperor Jing had ordered him to the palace. He wondered what new scheme the old fox had in mind but could only obey. Before leaving, he called Shan Yunjie to give some instructions, then departed from the general’s residence.

Early the next morning, Yan’er and Feng He were led from their little courtyard by an old matron and brought to Yunlu Courtyard. Both women were anxious; with Orelan keeping them under her eye, what new torments awaited them?

Yan’er shook out the damp bedding, the musty smell filling the room. “Feng He, I’ll make the bed. You rest for now.”

“Madam, the servants’ quarters are not like the mistress’s rooms. Let me handle this,” Feng He said, grateful for Yan’er’s lifesaving kindness.

“It’s all right, I can manage.” Yan’er smiled. She had not lived many bitter days, but now, in the general’s manor with Feng He, she had to learn to do things for herself.

“Stop dawdling, you two. Come out and wash the laundry. If you don’t finish, there’ll be no food for you.” A little maid burst in, shouted, and then slipped away as if fleeing a plague.

The two women exchanged a smile. “Let’s go, Feng He.”

Yan’er secretly rejoiced that today their only task was to wash a mountain of clothes. Orelan was being surprisingly lenient.

“Madam, let me do it.” Feng He seized the bucket. She was more practiced at such labor.

“Feng He, don’t call me ‘madam’ anymore. I’m not anyone’s mistress—just use my name.” Yan’er did not fight over the water bucket; she would only hinder.

“But, madam…” Feng He began, but Yan’er cut her off.

“If we want to survive, don’t call me that again!” In such an environment, she and Feng He could only rely on each other.

Feng He smiled in response.

From afar, the steward approached with a man in tow. “Madam Yan’er, the general has sent for a doctor for you…” Shan Yunjie wiped his brow.

“Thank you, Steward, but I don’t need it.” Yan’er’s tone was clear and cold.

“Madam…” Shan Yunjie looked helplessly at Feng He.

“Yan’er, let the doctor have a look—it’s for your own good. Don’t waste the general’s concern,” Feng He said, pulling Yan’er toward their room.

Yan’er paused, smiling faintly. “I truly have much to do. Steward, save the general the worry.” Without another glance, she dismissed them.

Shan Yunjie had no choice but to leave with the doctor, already thinking to prepare some medicine for a safe pregnancy and have Feng He keep it, just in case.

Yan’er sat on a small stool, feeling the strain—nearly four months along, it was hard to sit for long without discomfort. She massaged her aching back. Dusk was falling, and after a whole day of laundry, they had not even had a sip of water. Half the clothes remained unwashed, and Yan’er frowned.

“Yan’er, if you’re tired, go rest inside. I’ll finish the washing.” Feng He had already adjusted to not calling her ‘madam.’

“Feng He, I’ll check the kitchen to see if there’s any food left.” They had not yet eaten dinner after a full day’s work.

At that moment, Pan Yueyang was in the palace, his eyelid twitching—a sign of unease.

Before Feng He could reply, Cuilu’s voice rang out from outside. “Princess, mind your step—the ground is wet.”

Orelan approached the two women washing clothes, a smile on her face. Yan’er, seeing Orelan’s ever-changing expressions, instinctively took a step back, wary.

“What, am I so frightening?” Orelan was pleased by Yan’er’s reaction.

“Why haven’t you bowed to the princess?” Cuilu’s arrogance was infuriating.

“That’s enough,” Orelan said, adjusting her hairpin and looking at Yan’er.

Feng He stepped protectively in front of Yan’er, fearful that Orelan was about to stage another scene; this princess was truly cunning.

“Don’t be afraid. I just came to see how my former little sister is faring,” Orelan said, raising her hand. Four eunuchs stepped forward in unison.

“What do you want?” Feng He eyed the eunuchs warily, noticing one held a bowl of dark liquid. A sense of dread rose within her.

Orelan ignored the disrespect and glanced at the freshly washed clothes hanging on the line.

“Hurry up, you lot!” Cuilu barked, hands on her hips, glaring at Yan’er.

“What are you doing? This is the general’s manor!” Feng He shielded Yan’er, but one eunuch seized her and flung her aside.

“Ah!” Yan’er was forced to her knees by two eunuchs, her knees slamming painfully into the ground. Another eunuch pried open her mouth.

Yan’er glared fiercely at him as the bitter black liquid was forced down her throat, making her cough violently. The eunuchs held her fast, pouring more of the concoction in.

“This is an abortifacient. Drink every last drop, little sister,” Orelan drawled, her eyes fixed on Yan’er.

“No! The child she carries is the general’s—you can’t!” Feng He broke free, rushing to knock over the bowl, but Cuilu intercepted her.

“Hmph!” With a shove, Cuilu sent Feng He stumbling backward. Unbeknownst to her, the well from which they had fetched water was nearby…

Splash—

Orelan and Cuilu were dumbstruck. Cuilu waved her hands in panic. “Princess, I… I didn’t mean to kill her! Princess, what do we do?” She stared at the rope swaying above the well. Heaven help her, she had only pushed the ugly maid, who would have thought she’d fall in?

“Silence!” Orelan snapped, her phoenix eyes flashing. “Hurry and finish giving her the medicine!” She cast a frantic glance at the eunuchs.

Yan’er struggled desperately toward the well. “Feng… mmm…” A final mouthful of the bitter liquid was forced down her throat.

The eunuchs released her. Yan’er crawled to the well’s edge. “Feng He—Feng—He!” Only her own echo answered from the depths. She turned, eyes blazing with fury, to Orelan. “Why are you all just standing there? Get down and save her, hurry!”

“You all saw it—today, I was merely strolling through the gardens, and I heard nothing.” Orelan backed away, fear in her heart. She shot a glare at Cuilu. “Let’s go!” With that, she turned and left the secluded courtyard.