Schemes

A Rong stood in the tea room with a rag in her hand. She had already wiped the water stains on the stove three times. She rubbed the rag in the basin, wrung it out, and wiped the stove again. Outside the window, the sky was completely dark. Light from the palace lanterns filtered in from the corridor, casting patches of dim yellow shadow on the floor tiles. She was waiting. When the Fourth Prince returned from Xuanzheng Hall that evening, he had not looked well. Chun He went up to take his outer robe, but he waved her away, took it off himself, and tossed it onto the edge of the bed. He kicked off one boot, leaving it crooked on the footstool, while the other remained on his foot. A Ping crouched to help him remove it. He said there was no need, bent down, and tugged twice before finally pulling it off.

The Fourth Prince was not usually like this. In her days at Yuning Hall, A Rong had already learned most of his habits and temperament. He smiled readily, spoke sweetly, and never scowled at the servants. When feeding the rabbits, he would squat on the ground and talk to them, saying, "You've eaten too much today," or, "If you keep being picky, I'll send you back to the hunting grounds." Before going to the Imperial Study, he would bargain with Chun He, saying he would leave after just one more piece of osmanthus cake. Whenever he returned from Xuanzheng Hall, he always wore a smile, sometimes with pastry crumbs still at the corners of his mouth. Tonight, he had neither smiled nor had pastry crumbs at the corners of his mouth. He sat on the edge of the bed in a daze for a while, then curled up under the covers.

A Rong draped the rag over the edge of the stove and poured half a cup of warm tea from the teapot. She set the cup on a tray, then added a small plate of osmanthus cakes. Chun He had brought the cakes from the main kitchen at dinner. They were neatly cut, with dried osmanthus flowers embedded in their surfaces. A Rong lifted the tray and headed for the bedchamber. She walked steadily, setting each foot down lightly, as though she had measured the distance with a ruler. In the corridor, A Ping was dozing against a pillar. As she passed him, she softened her footsteps even further. Her skirt brushed the floor tiles with the faintest rustle. She did not use the main door. Beside it was a small side door for palace maids entering and leaving the bedchamber, though Chun He and A Ping usually used the main door. She slipped sideways through the little doorway, and the curtain fell softly behind her.

Only the horn lantern at the head of the bed remained lit in the bedchamber, its light dim. Qi Yu lay on his side beneath the brocade quilt on the dragon bed, his face buried in a cotton pillow, with only his sleep-tousled black hair showing. He had kicked the quilt down to his waist. The collar of his nightclothes was slightly open, revealing a small patch of fair skin beneath his collarbone. A Rong set the tray on the low table beside the bed. The porcelain plate made a faint sound against the wooden surface. Qi Yu did not move. She stood beside the bed, looking down at him.

She had served in the Xiao Family for eight years, from the age of ten to eighteen. When Old Madam Xiao bought her from a human trafficker, she had been small and thin, her hair as yellow as dead grass. The old madam had someone nurse her health for over half a year. With enough food and warm clothes, she grew taller, and her hair became glossy black. The old madam summoned her and placed her bond of servitude in her palm with her own hands, saying that she was returning it and that from then on, she was free. She knelt and kowtowed three times, scalding tears falling onto the backs of her hands. The old madam also brought her elder brother and sister-in-law out of the countryside and arranged for them to work in a shop in the back lane. They lived in a house belonging to the Xiao Family and drew wages from them. Whenever they saw her, they would smile and say, "Little sister, work hard in the palace. Our whole family's livelihood depends on you." She knew what those words meant. Her bond had been returned, but the reins were still in the old madam's hands.

She had ample experience in serving others. During her years with the Xiao Family, the old madam had never made her do rough work, instead hiring a matron retired from the palace specifically to teach her. How to adjust the water temperature, how to massage legs, how to make a bed, how to whisk tea. She studied more diligently than anyone. The matron said the most important thing in serving a master was knowing one's bounds: keep quiet when one should not speak, and lower one's head when one should not look. She remembered it all.

Tonight, the Fourth Prince was troubled. At a time like this, having someone gentle and considerate attending him would make it easier than usual for him to lower his guard. She reached out and gently pulled the quilt up, her fingers pausing as they passed over Qi Yu's shoulder. The youth's nightclothes were plain silk, soft to the touch. Through the silk, her fingertips felt the warmth of his body, along with the faint, fresh scent of mugwort after his bath. She sat on the edge of the bed. The mattress dipped slightly. Turning sideways, she laid her hand over the back of the hand Qi Yu had left outside the quilt and stroked it gently, slowly.

Qi Yu stirred in his sleep. He rolled over to face outward, his lips moving and his brows faintly furrowed as he mumbled something. It also seemed as though he was talking in his sleep. A Rong could not make it out. She lowered her head and leaned closer, trying to hear what he was saying.

The curtain lifted. Chun He stood in the doorway, holding a bowl of hot milk with a thin skin formed on its surface. She had originally come in to bring the prince some calming tea. Hearing movement by the bed, she had thought Qi Yu was awake, but when she lifted the curtain, she saw A Rong sitting on the edge of the bed, leaning slightly forward, her face less than a hand's breadth from her prince's. Chun He's hand paused.

"What are you doing?" She set down the bowl and walked toward the bed. A Rong looked up, a flicker of panic crossing her face before she quickly resumed her usual docile expression. "His Highness kicked off his quilt. I was covering him up." She stood and took a step back. Chun He glanced at her hand, which had just moved away from Qi Yu's shoulder.

"When His Highness is asleep, no one but A Ping and me is allowed into the bedchamber. Didn't the matron teach you the rules on your first day?"

"She did." A Rong lowered her head.

"Then why don't you understand them? Get out. From now on, you are not to enter the bedchamber without my instructions." Chun He stood there, her voice quiet, yet it pinned A Rong to the spot. The color slowly drained from A Rong's face. She curtsied to Chun He and backed out through the curtain. Her footsteps were faster than when she had entered, and the draft from her skirts sent the curtain swaying several times.

The commotion woke Qi Yu. He rolled over groggily and opened his eyes to find Chun He standing by the bed with an unpleasant expression. "What's wrong?" His voice was still sleepy as he rubbed his eyes and sat up from beneath the quilt. Several strands of hair stuck up, and his eyes were half closed.

"Nothing. A Rong didn't follow the rules, so I scolded her a little." Chun He brought over the hot milk. Qi Yu took it and had a sip. "Chun He, you're so fierce today." He pulled up the quilt and lay down again, rolled over, then rolled back and buried his face in the pillow. "I just dreamed Father was telling someone to play the zither," he said in a muffled voice. His words were indistinct, and he fell asleep again before finishing the last one.

Chun He stood beside the bed with the empty bowl, looking down at Qi Yu's sleeping face. He slept deeply, his breathing soft and long, his eyelashes utterly still. She stood there for quite a while, until she was certain he was sound asleep, then tucked in the quilt and quietly withdrew with the bowl.

A Ping was still dozing in the corridor. Chun He walked up and nudged his boot with her foot. A Ping jolted awake, nearly sliding down the pillar. "Wh-what's wrong?"

"Come with me." Chun He pulled him into the tea room and told him what had just happened. By the time he had heard her out, every trace of sleepiness had vanished from his face. He leaned against the stove, clasping his hands so tightly his knuckles turned white. "A Rong," he repeated, his voice very low. "I'll go see my godfather first thing tomorrow. The Xiao Family has quite a scheme going. They've brought it all the way into Yuning Hall."

Chun He leaned against the doorframe and rolled up her sleeve, revealing the web of her hand, scalded red by the milk earlier. The reddened skin still faintly burned. "Starting tomorrow, check everything His Highness eats, wears, and uses all over again-everything that goes into his mouth or touches him. I don't care how you do it, get the personnel transfer records from the Imperial Household Department. She cannot stay."

A Ping nodded and turned to glance toward the Side Hall. The two rabbits were huddled together in their cage inside. He drew back his gaze, stood, and walked out into the corridor. The moon had already moved west; dawn was another four hours away. He stood in the corridor for a long time. The wind blew cold, and he tucked his hands into his sleeves, waiting for daybreak.