“Miss, you’re back. Did you handle everything?”
Wanqing returned to find Chunhong waiting at her doorstep. Seeing her solemn expression, Chunhong couldn’t help but ask.
“Mhm, I’m starving. Chunhong, where’s the noodles you promised to cook for me?”
Wanqing had sorted things out on her way back. For now, as long as neither she nor Chunhong spoke about Cold Mingye, and as long as she found a way to eliminate the madam of the Fragrant Orchid Pavilion and Sun Changshun while intimidating anyone who might have seen her and posed a threat, there shouldn’t be any immediate trouble.
As for Qingfeng, though she didn’t know his exact relationship with the Ning Manor or why he had given her the Ning Manor’s token, she was certain he wouldn’t harm her. If he had wanted to, she’d likely be dead already.
With these thoughts, she felt much lighter and momentarily forgot about the red spots covering her face and neck—self-inflicted with silver needles to feign illness and deceive Cold Mingye.
Smiling faintly, she stepped inside, suddenly feeling ravenous after recalling Chunhong’s earlier words and immediately asked for food.
“Miss, the noodles are just ready. I’ll bring them right away. Here, Miss, eat slowly—there’s more in the pot. Your face… it was fine earlier, but now it’s covered in red spots, even your neck… Miss, you…”
Chunhong turned to fetch a bowl of noodles and placed it before her. Though it was just a simple bowl with a few drops of oil and some greens, Wanqing ate eagerly.
Watching her, Chunhong couldn’t help but feel heartache. Despite being a young lady by birth, Wanqing lived as humbly as they did. Her eyes welled up as she gazed at the red blotches covering Wanqing’s face.
She fretted inwardly—how had her mistress’s face, perfectly fine earlier, turned into this in just a short while? If it stayed like this, she’d surely be bullied even more.
“I don’t know what happened either. I was fine earlier, but suddenly my chest ached, and my face felt itchy and painful. Are there really red spots? Chunhong, bring me a mirror. Oh heavens, what’s happened to my face? Let me see… It must be Xianglan! She must have poisoned the tea she gave me—not just a sleeping draught but actual poison. These red spots must be a reaction to the toxin.”
Though Wanqing knew full well the marks were her own doing, she feigned ignorance, putting down her chopsticks to touch her face in confusion.
Remembering Cold Mingye’s instructions, she knew now wasn’t the time to undo the needlework, even if she wished to look presentable. Pretending shock, she asked Chunhong for a mirror.
When she saw her reflection—her once delicate, slender face now covered in red spots and tiny blisters—she gasped, pretending to examine her wrist as if just discovering the “poison.” She slumped into her seat, trembling.
“Poisoned? Miss, how did you know just by touching your wrist? Can the poison be cured? You’re already bullied so much… If your face stays like this, it’ll only get worse…”
Chunhong, thinking Wanqing was devastated, wiped her tears anxiously, though she was also puzzled.
“Didn’t I tell you? A kind stranger saved me and gave me a treasure. I don’t know what it is, but he taught me that by holding someone’s wrist and listening to their pulse, you can tell if they’re ill. But he only showed me the basics—I’ll need practice to master it. Still, thanks to this treasure, I know I’ve been poisoned. As for my face… I truly don’t know if it can be cured. If the poison can’t be neutralized, I…”
Seeing Chunhong’s distress, Wanqing sighed inwardly. If she didn’t reassure the girl, her stubborn mind would keep worrying.
She lowered her head, feigning despair.
“Miss, it sounds like this ‘treasure’ is medical knowledge. If you could identify the poison so quickly, surely with time, you’ll heal your face. But after what happened earlier in the main courtyard with the master and mistress… I’m worried…”
Chunhong sighed, torn between sympathy for Wanqing’s ruined complexion and concern for the earlier confrontation.
“Don’t worry, Chunhong. Have you forgotten? I have my treasure now. That person didn’t just teach me how to diagnose illness—he also showed me how to use silver needles against others.”
Wanqing chuckled at Chunhong’s fretful expression, patting her shoulder reassuringly.
“Silver needles? Miss, don’t tease me. The mistress can punish you with just a word. How would needles help? Unless you plan to sneak up and prick them—but you’d be caught before you got close! Miss, you—what did you just do to my arm?!”
Chunhong laughed dismissively, but before she could finish, Wanqing swiftly pricked her arm with a needle. Instantly, Chunhong’s arm stiffened, frozen mid-air despite her efforts to lower it.
Stunned, she stared at Wanqing in awe.
“What do you think, silly girl? Mocking your mistress? I had to show you my skills, or you’d keep doubting me.”
Though amused, Wanqing feigned sternness before removing the needle.
“Miss! That expert must be incredible—you’ve learned so much in less than a day! Teach me too! Then no one would dare bully you… or me!”
Chunhong’s eyes sparkled with admiration as she clung to Wanqing’s arm, giddy.
“You little rascal. I’ve told you before—as long as you’re loyal, I’ll treat you well. But mark my words: betray me, and I won’t hesitate to act. Listen—the rooster’s crowing. If we keep chatting, dawn will break. Go to bed. If you want to learn, I’ll teach you when there’s time.”
Wanqing tapped Chunhong’s nose playfully, then grew serious. Hearing the distant cockcrow, she realized how late it was.
Yawning, she ushered Chunhong out, chuckling as the girl pouted before leaving. Closing the door, she trudged toward the bed behind the screen…
Just as she lay down and blew out the candle, a faint tap came from the window.
“Who’s there?”
Her voice was cool as she gripped a silver needle, debating whether to relight the lamp.
A breeze rustled, carrying a familiar herbal scent.
“Little fool, why are you still awake? Scared? It’s me.”
The voice was light and teasing. The candle flickered back to life, and Wanqing’s tension dissolved—though she burrowed deeper under the covers, pretending fear.
Her heart raced. *What’s he doing here in the middle of the night? Did he notice something?*
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