The Palace Stewardess

Volume 8 Can one be like an infant?

Lin Hong continued to participate in the Gathering Scenery Garden project. Once he accepted the appointment, he devoted himself wholeheartedly, often staying up all night to work on the drawings. Over the next two months, he met with Zhenzhen only a handful of times. By mid-September, the construction of the Empress Dowager’s bedchamber in the Gathering Scenery Garden had taken initial shape. Lin Hong invited the Empress Dowager and the Emperor to inspect the site and offer suggestions for the future development of the garden.

The Empress Dowager replied that she had already reviewed the drawings and was quite satisfied. She suggested making modifications according to the Emperor’s opinions and would visit only after the bedchamber was fully completed. The Emperor, however, gladly accepted the invitation and brought along several princes and palace attendants, including Zhenzhen.

Although the bedchamber was not yet finished, its layout—featuring multiple courtyards and layered terraces—was already evident, surpassing the elegance of the palace halls. It seamlessly blended southern-style gardens with pavilions and towers, with gardens both in front of and behind the chambers, as well as inside and outside. All four walls were designed with lattice doors and windows. In summer, to cool off and enjoy the breeze, the doors and windows on any side could be removed at will, even allowing all four sides to be fully open. This would let the wind carry the fragrance of flowers flow freely through the pavilion, while those inside could enjoy the surrounding floral scenery as if in a pavilion. In winter, two layers of lattice windows could be added to the walls, and several layers of curtains could be hung along the corridors to ensure warmth without worry.

The garden outside the Empress Dowager’s bedchamber, where her bed would be placed, was designed by Lin Hong with a refined elegance. The greenery on both sides was primarily bamboo, and a majestic pine tree was planned for the center of the courtyard. The garden was paved with white pebbles, dotted with a few lake and mountain stones. Lin Hong explained the garden’s layout to the Emperor and added, “It would be fitting to hang some jade chimes in the bamboo grove. When the wind rustles through the sparse bamboo, the gentle sound of jade would soothe the mind and nurture the spirit.”

The Emperor smiled and said, “Jade chimes are elegant and sound quite pleasant.” He then turned to those around him and asked, “What do you all think?”

Most of those present echoed their approval, but Zhenzhen disagreed: “Jade chimes are not suitable. As the Empress Dowager grows older, hanging jade chimes might easily disturb her sleep at night.”

As soon as she finished speaking, Zhao Ai raised his voice in agreement: “Chief Steward Wu’s opinion aligns perfectly with mine. The Empress Dowager often suffers from insomnia and restless sleep, so jade chimes should not be hung.”

The Emperor also found this reasoning sound and instructed Lin Hong not to hang the chimes. Zhao Ai felt even more pleased, delighted that he and Zhenzhen shared the same view, both opposing Lin Hong’s suggestion and gaining their father’s support. He couldn’t help but cast a meaningful glance at Lin Hong, a faint smile playing on his lips, already feeling as though he had won a round. Though he said nothing aloud, in his heart, he gave a smug, mock-courteous bow to Lin Hong: “My apologies, my apologies…”

Lin Hong ignored him. Behind him stood a subordinate holding paper and a brush, ready to record everyone’s opinions at any moment. Lin Hong turned to his subordinate and calmly instructed him to note down: “Chief Steward Wu stated that she does not like jade chimes.”

His gaze shifted to Zhenzhen, devoid of any hint of smugness, mockery, or any other meaningful expression. He remained composed, his eyes as clear as autumn water. Yet this seemingly ordinary statement, presented as a mere fact, instantly made Zhenzhen blush with embarrassment. She lowered her head and took a slight step back, wishing she could vanish into the ground on the spot.

Of course, she would never forget that night they spent alone at the Woodcutter Inquiry Post, when she and Lin Hong had leaned against each other. Dazzled and entranced, she had accepted his kisses starting from her forehead. If not for the sudden shattering of jade chimes in the bamboo grove outside the house, the intimacy of that day might have gone even further.

Thus, “Chief Steward Wu does not like jade chimes” was, in fact, a teasing remark filled with shared amusement that only the two of them could understand.

She had the urge to rush over and pummel Lin Hong, but in such a public setting, under the watchful eyes of everyone, all she could do was blush.Zhao Ai noticed Zhenzhen's unusual expression and felt somewhat puzzled: Lin Hong was merely having someone record her opinion, so why was she so bashful? Could she be worried about being recorded in history because of this?

He glanced again at Lin Hong, scrutinizing him carefully, but Lin Hong's dignified demeanor remained as impeccable as ever, his calm eyes revealing no trace of anything unusual.

He tried to convince himself that the two were perfectly normal, that he shouldn't overthink things and create trouble for himself. Yet another rational part of him kept surfacing to question: Then why was she blushing? It seems you've lost this round...

The key was not even knowing where he had lost.

He blinked and decided not to dwell on it further, resolving to give his all in the afternoon cuju match to win Zhenzhen's attention.

The cuju match took place on a prepared field in the Gathering Scenery Garden. The Crown Prince, who had never been fond of cuju, sat in the central seat on one side of the field, conversing with his father and Lin Hong. The second prince, Zhao Ai, and the third prince, Zhao Hao, each led a team of imperial clan members and relatives in a competition.

In the center of the field stood two goalposts about three zhang high, with a goal diameter of one chi at the top, called the "fengliuyan" (wind-flow eye). After the kickoff, both sides scrambled for the ball, juggled it, and dribbled it. Finally, the team in possession passed to their captain, who kicked the ball toward the fengliuyan. A successful shot earned one point, and the team with more goals at the end of the match won.

Zhao Ai often played cuju with Yin Ti and others, so his skills were already quite proficient. This time, he and Yin Ti coordinated seamlessly, using their heads, shoulders, chests, knees, and feet to receive the ball, as effortlessly as strolling in a leisurely garden. Yin Ti would gain possession, dribble, and pass to Zhao Ai's feet, and Zhao Ai would kick fiercely toward the fengliuyan, often scoring. In no time, their points far exceeded those of Zhao Hao's team. Zhao Hao's face turned ashen, and he grew increasingly disheartened as the match progressed. The other team members also lost morale and quickly lost the game.

Many palace attendants gathered around the field, cheering from time to time at Zhao Ai's dashing appearance. When the match ended, they surged toward the direction where Zhao Ai would leave the field, vying to catch a glimpse of the winner and calling out loudly, "Second Great King," trying to catch his attention.

Fengxian had prepared a pot of filtered pear syrup for Zhao Ai, which she had spent most of the day carefully brewing. She waited by his seat and greeted him with a smile, holding the syrup as he returned.

However, Zhao Ai only lingered briefly at his seat, taking a towel handed by an attendant to wipe his face before rising and walking cheerfully toward Zhenzhen. Before he even got close, he called out loudly, "Zhenzhen, how did I play?"

He didn't even glance at Fengxian.

Fengxian stood frozen in place, still holding the filtered pear syrup and maintaining the smile she had shown upon seeing him.

It was a long time before Fengxian snapped back to reality. She looked at Zhao Ai chatting and laughing with Zhenzhen in the distance, then silently carried the filtered pear syrup toward the lake, intending to find an unnoticed spot to pour out the sweet drink.

As she reached the lakeshore, she noticed a dejected person sitting under a nearby willow tree, facing away from her. Judging by the purple robe he wore, he was likely a member of Zhao Hao's team who had just lost the match.

Fengxian had no intention of paying him any mind and was about to turn and leave when the person heard the movement and looked back.

It was actually Zhao Hao, his lazily raised eyes clouded with all the gloom of autumn.Zhao Hao was dark and thin, having been less handsome and graceful than the Crown Prince and Zhao Ai since childhood. He was also habitually quiet and reserved. Although he attended palace banquets and gatherings, his unremarkable presence went unnoticed if he remained silent. The same was true after the match just now—the palace attendants had all flocked to watch Zhao Ai, and almost no one noticed his presence, let alone cared when he had arrived by the lake.

Their eyes met, and Fengxian had no choice but to curtsy to him, addressing him as "Third Great King."

Zhao Hao glanced at the sweet soup Fengxian was carrying and said coldly, "Go away. I don’t want it."

Fengxian instantly realized he had misunderstood, thinking she had come to bring him the sweet soup. She couldn’t help but chuckle inwardly, but since he had said so, she found it inconvenient to leave. Instead, she walked straight up to him, set down the tray, poured a cup of filtered pear syrup, and offered it to him with both hands. "Third Great King, you’ve sweated a lot from playing cuju. You should drink some broth as soon as possible after the match. This filtered pear syrup moistens the lungs and quenches thirst—it’s best to drink it now."

Zhao Hao looked at her, then at the pear syrup, hesitating.

Fengxian smiled at him. "The pear paste used to sweeten the syrup took me seven or eight hours to simmer. I’m not sure if the flavor is good enough. I hope Your Highness will honor me by tasting it and telling me how it is."

It would be a waste to pour it out, so she might as well let him drink it and do him a favor. Fengxian thought.

Zhao Hao took it, sipped first, then drank it all in one go.

"It’s very good, better than what the palace attendants in my pavilion make," he commented, offering her a faint smile.

The palace attendant from the Bureau of Palace Provisions currently serving his meals was Tang Li. Fengxian had just seen her running toward Zhao Ai with shining eyes, calling out "Second Great King."

Fengxian found it rather amusing but also felt a twinge of sympathy for Zhao Hao. Reflecting on her own recent experience, it seemed they were both in the same boat—fellow sufferers in this world.

"Did Second Great King send you?" Zhao Hao asked. Since the brothers often met, he also remembered Fengxian and knew she was Zhao Ai’s attendant.

Fengxian shook her head. "I came on my own. Second Great King doesn’t know."

"You came specifically to bring me sweet soup?" Zhao Hao was very surprised. "Why? Out of pity because I lost the match?"

"Not at all," Fengxian denied with a smile. After a brief pause, as if making up her mind, she told him, "I know Your Highness’s literary and military talents are second to none in the palace. A mere game of cuju is nothing to you. Today’s loss was only because you saw how excited Second Great King was and deliberately held back to avoid hurting your brotherly bond. Now that it’s quiet here, I’m fortunate enough to have the chance to offer Your Highness my sweet soup, so I hurried over. If I waited until Your Highness won next time, the crowd of flatterers would swarm around, and I wouldn’t be able to squeeze in even if I tried."

A good word is worth saying, and ten good words are worth saying even more. Better to say a few more to make him happy. Fengxian thought, then served Zhao Hao another cup of sweet soup... Trading this pot of sweet soup for a prince’s goodwill wasn’t a waste.

Zhao Hao was deeply moved by these words but stubbornly turned his head away, not letting her see his reddened eyes. After a long while, he spoke again. "May I know your maiden name?"

"Fengxian," she answered with a smile. "Ling Fengxian."That night, Zhenzhen lay alone in bed, carefully replaying the events of the morning in her mind. When she recalled the shattered jade piece, a wave of deep shame washed over her, and she abruptly pulled the quilt over her face... As she continued to think, a hint of sweetness emerged. The quilt slipped from her head, and a smile touched the corners of her eyes and brows. But then Lin Hong's silently teasing expression surfaced in her heart. Torn between love and resentment, she didn't know what to do, so she turned facedown and pounded the bedboard with her fists in frustration.

Brimming with a young girl's restless thoughts and eager to confide in someone, Zhenzhen first thought of Fengxian. The next day, she found Fengxian, pulled her aside to a secluded spot, and recounted everything that had happened since leaving the capital, only omitting the few more intimate moments with Lin Hong.

After listening, Fengxian asked, "So what do you plan to do now? Are you going to tell The Emperor and ask him to arrange a marriage?"

Zhenzhen sighed. "No, I can't. If I tell The Emperor now, he'll surely think I left the palace to find Teacher Lin under false pretenses, just to be with him... I don't mind for myself, but I worry it would implicate Teacher Lin and make The Emperor misunderstand him."

Fengxian pondered for a moment and said to Zhenzhen, "Then perhaps you should find a way to leave the palace and regain your freedom. That way, you can decide whom to marry according to your own wishes."

Ever since receiving the tragic news of her mother's death, Zhenzhen had felt little attachment to the palace and had long considered leaving. However, it seemed far from easy.

"I've inquired about it," Zhenzhen told Fengxian. "For palace attendants, there are usually two ways to leave the palace. One is when they're older, requesting to leave to marry or retire; the other is when they displease The Emperor or the noble they serve, either being expelled or included on the list when The Emperor releases palace attendants."

"The first option isn't suitable for you," Fengxian firmly dismissed. "You're only eighteen. To request to leave on grounds of old age, you'd have to be nearly thirty to even bring it up, wouldn't you?"

Zhenzhen nodded and asked, "Is the second option feasible?"

"Being expelled is even worse," Fengxian said. "Palace attendants who make mistakes are often sent to become Daoist nuns. However, if the mistake isn't too serious—not punishable by law but merely displeasing to the master—it's possible to be included on the release list and leave unscathed."

Zhenzhen said gloomily, "I understand that, but I don't know what kind of mistake wouldn't be punishable yet would still upset The Emperor or some other noble enough to want me out of the palace."

"Let's both think about it further," Fengxian advised promptly. "But from now on, be careful not to serve The Emperor too diligently, making him feel he can't do without you... Also, try to avoid further promotions. The higher your rank, the harder it is to leave... Look at Pei Shangshi, trapped in the palace for decades without a way out."

"Oh, I asked her about that," Zhenzhen said. "I heard from The Emperor that if Pei Shangshi wanted to leave the palace to retire, he would grant her a large residence, and she could continue receiving a generous salary. But Pei Shangshi told me that she has almost no family left. If she left the palace, she'd be living alone. It's better to stay in the palace, where there's always activity and it's livelier."