Chapter Fifty-Eight: The Good Do Not Come

Dong Nuan, accompanied by her maid and carrying Yun Ming’s cloak, entered Zhi Yu Tower. “Prince Yun has worn this cloak all day—let’s change it for a fresh one,” she said.

Yun Ming was momentarily taken aback, suspecting this was the work of Wei Shao Qianyu. He untied his cloak and turned to fetch a new one.

But Dong Nuan, quick and decisive, struck hard at Feng Qingxuan from behind, catching the falling girl with composure and handing her into Yun Ming’s arms. “My lady dislikes noise while sleeping,” she said calmly. “I knocked her out so you can take her back, Your Highness, and she’ll rest undisturbed.”

Yun Ming was dumbfounded by this swift and ruthless move—so reminiscent of Wei Shao Qianyu, though he doubted Qianyu had sent Dong Nuan.

“Your Highness, don’t forget to have your servants light the calming incense,” Dong Nuan added, her tone carrying the unspoken meaning: watch your house’s dog, don’t let it out to bite people for no reason.

She then turned to Feng Jinye, curtsied, and reported, “Zhi Yu Tower, rule number one: not even if the sky falls may the princess’s sleep be disturbed!”

Inside, Wei Shao Qianyu had not quite fallen asleep. She pressed her lips in a smile—Dong Nuan was avenging the kick she’d received earlier that day, brazenly seizing the opportunity for payback!

The maids of Zhi Yu Tower, listening to Dong Nuan’s clear and authoritative voice, silently gave her a thumbs up in their hearts.

Feng Jinye had already sensed Dong Nuan’s intentions toward Feng Qingxuan, but had not intervened. In that instant, he too assumed, as Yun Ming did, that Wei Shao Qianyu was behind it.

Feng Jinye, who never bore to see harm come to Feng Qingxuan, nevertheless recalled the scene from earlier that day when Wei Shao Qianyu was kicked flying by her.

Seeing the battle prince had nothing to say, Dong Nuan continued, “My lord, I’ve just returned from the Shadow Guards’ quarters and am not yet fully recovered. The princess has asked Qingxia to look after me. Xuechun came back from Wan Lai Xue today, but caught a chill and can’t come up to help, so the princess is in your care.”

With this, Dong Nuan retreated and closed the door with a bang. Chujiu and Ye Shiyi stood outside, dumbfounded.

Dong Nuan returned to the side courtyard to explain what had happened to Xuechun and Qingxia, and the three of them vented their shared frustration.

Xuechun was truly ill. After Wan Lai Xue burned down, with several servants dead or wounded, she had spent the night out, and upon her return to Zhi Yu Tower, fell sick.

The battle prince’s household had been in turmoil all day, and Xuechun had not slept for two days. She came down with a fever in the middle of the night.

Half-awake, Dong Nuan listened to Xuechun mutter, felt her burning forehead, and was instantly alert. She recalled her mistress saying, “If a high fever doesn’t break, it can make you a fool.”

Alarmed, Dong Nuan threw on a coat, preparing to fetch wine from the cellar.

Ye Shiyi, hearing movement in the side courtyard, came to investigate and heard Dong Nuan say, “Xuechun is ill. I’m going to fetch wine to lower her fever.”

He turned silently back to the main courtyard, but couldn’t shake the worry from his heart.

Inside, Feng Jinye was exhausted from two sleepless nights. As soon as he entered, Wei Shao Qianyu said, “There’s a cloak in that chest. Take it out and sleep on the rocking chair over there.”

Feng Jinye frowned, tempted to return to Ting Feng Tower, but was uneasy leaving Wei Shao Qianyu—wounded and alone.

“I want to tell you a story. I helped make the cloak, too,” Qianyu said softly. Feng Jinye misunderstood, thinking she had made the cloak herself.

In truth, the cloak had been custom ordered at the silk shop in the north of the city; Qianyu’s ‘help’ was merely sewing on the ties. When, one day, the ties came loose, she had only said, “I only put in a few stitches—how did it come off?”

Feng Jinye opened the chest, took out the cloak—still black, with subtle golden embroidery, exquisitely finished.

“What story?” he asked, sitting on the rocking chair, cloak in hand.

“Lie down first, pull the cloak over yourself,” she replied.

“You mustn’t think of anything else—just listen to my story, breathe deeply, relax completely,” Qianyu added, her warning tone making Feng Jinye smile despite himself.

Her voice became gentle and slow.

“Feng Jinye, close your eyes, relax…”

“Imagine the snow outside the window, melting away bit by bit…”

“A silent rain falls—drip, drip—softly coming down…”

“Soon the rain stops. You lie on the rocking chair beneath a maple tree, watching new green leaves emerge at the tips of the branches: one, two, three…”

“More and more leaves appear. You can smell the fresh earth after rain, a faint scent of flowers…”

“Here, you are completely at ease, relaxed—close your eyes, and sleep peacefully…”

Hearing the steady rhythm of Feng Jinye’s breathing, Qianyu looked over at him on the rocking chair, wondering how long it had been since he’d truly slept. If not for her hypnosis, tonight would have been another restless night for him.

She closed her eyes and hypnotized herself to sleep.

But restlessness is hard to avoid. By late January, her efforts to sleep were fruitless. Qianyu opened her eyes and saw the waning moon outside, as if it were peeking in at those who could not sleep, reminding her that the night was half gone.

Trapped in these intrigues, Qianyu thought back on everything that had happened—her resentment and unwillingness grew.

What was the true goal behind these machinations? She had always been on guard against enemies seeking her life, but in the end, they had spared her.

She reviewed the situation again and again. Those in the know, as far as she could tell, were the Empress Dowager, Feng Jinye, and now the Xuanyuan family.

Perhaps she should help Feng Jinye recover his memory, to first determine whether the Empress Dowager was friend or foe.

At sunrise, Feng Jinye opened his eyes, his mind instantly clearing as he turned to look at Qianyu.

He was astonished to realize he had slept through the night. Always a light sleeper, woken by the slightest sound, he had been utterly oblivious to the world outside.

He gazed at Qianyu, lost in thought. Was that really a story she told him? It sounded more like a lullaby for children.

Early in the morning, Imperial Physician Leng was brought to Zhi Yu Tower by Ye Shiyi, but he was taken to the side courtyard.

“She’s injured,” Leng remarked, surprised to hear the usually reticent Ye Shiyi speak so plainly.

After examining Xuechun, the physician said, “Her fever is from a chill. The injury is external; there’s no inflammation.”

He wrote a prescription, handed it to Ye Shiyi, and turned to the main courtyard.

Ye Shiyi stared blankly at the prescription in his hand.

Inside, Feng Jinye heard the voices of Leng and Chujiu outside and was about to call Leng in, but paused when he saw the still-sleeping Qianyu. He got up and went out.

Physician Leng was surprised and honored to see the prince come out to meet him.

But Feng Jinye was annoyed, coldly stating, “The princess is still asleep.”

Leng understood—the prince was rebuking him: he should wait until the princess awoke before coming for a consultation.

“My lord, I heard in the palace yesterday that the Empress Dowager had the Imperial Medical Bureau select medicinal herbs and has asked Consort Liu to visit the princess today,” Leng reported. He was not there to examine Qianyu, but took the opportunity to inform the prince.

After just two days, the news of Wan Lai Xue’s burning and the prince carrying his princess back home had already reached the palace.

“Understood,” Feng Jinye replied quietly, glancing up to see a group of maids carrying items into Zhi Yu Tower. Chujiu, eager to please, explained, “My lord, the study in Ting Feng Tower needs repairs. Yesterday, I discussed with Dong Nuan and we decided to move everything you need into the princess’s study in Zhi Yu Tower for now…”

Feng Jinye frowned as he watched the procession, then shot a withering glare at Chujiu. He left him with a curt, “Wait outside!” and turned back indoors.

Chujiu was bewildered. Wasn’t this what his lord wanted?

Physician Leng remarked as he left, “Your lord is displeased you disturbed the princess’s sleep so early,” and departed.

Only then did Chujiu realize—Dong Nuan’s words from the day before, “Rule number one in Zhi Yu Tower: not even if the sky falls may the princess’s sleep be disturbed,” had clearly been taken to heart by his prince.

The maids of Zhi Yu Tower now outshone those of Ting Feng Tower. At this rate, Chujiu feared for his own position as steward.

Consort Liu held the highest rank among the emperor’s concubines, yet she was entirely at the Empress Dowager’s mercy, quiet and unassuming despite her lofty status.

Feng Jinye sighed to himself. Since marrying Qianyu, malice and trouble had come at them in waves. Was the Empress Dowager human or ghost?

Back then, Princess Xuan Yuan’s wife, Xuan Yuan Xinyuan, had trusted the Marquis of Xibo and the Empress Dowager. But could that trust still be justified?

He was left with no choice but to wake Qianyu.

Qianyu, having slept poorly, was irritated to be woken early by Feng Jinye. He, too, was deeply displeased, silently tallying this grievance against the Empress Dowager.

“The Empress Dowager is sending someone to see you today,” he informed her, but it failed to rouse her.

Qianyu, annoyed, tried to turn over and sleep again, but her injuries made it impossible. She pulled the quilt over her head and snapped, “Let them come if they want. I’m sick anyway.”

Feng Jinye noticed her indifference to the Empress Dowager’s actions and soberly asked, “Why is the Empress Dowager sending someone to see you?”

He already suspected the answer, and anger flared in his chest.

Half-asleep, Qianyu didn’t notice the edge in his voice. She mumbled, “How should I know? Maybe she saw I’d left and you brought me back, so now she’s sending someone to scold me, keep me in line. Aren’t all official wives under her control?”

Those last words confirmed Feng Jinye’s suspicion—Qianyu had left Prince Zhan’s household because she was forced by the Empress Dowager.

He fell silent. Qianyu lowered the quilt, planning to drift back to sleep.

But just as she did so, Dong Nuan entered the room.

“My lady, someone has sent a calling card outside. It’s Consort Liu and Madam Qu,” Dong Nuan announced placidly.

Qianyu gave up any thought of more sleep, glaring at Dong Nuan, knowing she couldn’t retaliate while injured.

“Speak,” she snapped.

“Madam Qu is the wife of the commander of the royal guards, and originally the eldest daughter of the Marquis of Dingyuan, named Luo Shuqing,” Dong Nuan replied, then waited silently for Qianyu’s reaction.

Qianyu showed little response, only asking coolly, “And Consort Liu?”

“Consort Liu, you’ve met before,” Dong Nuan continued. “She is the legitimate daughter of the former prime minister’s household. The Liu family was punished for colluding with the Western Yan Kingdom, but Consort Liu survived because she was royal by marriage.”

Qianyu listened, then laughed. “I see. The Luo family bears a grudge against the consort, and the Liu family is an old enemy of the Lu family.”

Those who come with ill intent are seldom kind!