The Flirtatious Beauty Decides to Steal the Princess - Chapter 21.2

Had she died back then, it would likely have been brushed aside without a second thought.

As she pondered this, Yun Chu had already knocked and entered the room. Madam Gu’s quarters were spacious and quite refined, filled mostly with rewards she had received over the years for her diligent work in sewing.

When Yun Chu stepped inside, it struck her for a moment that her princess ought to be living in a palace even grander than this. Suppressing the lump in her throat, she hurried to Wen Ying’s side.

“Your Highness! Why aren’t you resting properly when you’re injured? The damp air isn’t good for your wounds!” Yun Chu’s face was stern, but when she met Wen Ying’s teary eyes, she couldn’t bring herself to speak more harshly.

Wen Ying allowed Yun Chu to help her settle back under the covers. This was Madam Gu’s bedroom, and the quilt still carried a faint fragrance.

Although…

As time passed, Wen Ying truly fell asleep on her own. The sound of the rain outside softened, like a lullaby coaxing her into slumber. The room was now very quiet. To allow Wen Ying to recuperate, Madam Gu had been resting in another chamber these past few days, making this space seem like a private world for just Wen Ying and Fu Qingyin.

Fu Qingyin sat by the table near the window, silently writing something with a brush, her strokes brimming with tenderness.

It was as if she could already envision their sweet days ahead. But then, the brush paused, and a drop of thick ink fell, spreading across the paper like an ink painting blooming before her eyes.

Yet, upon closer inspection at the beginning of the page, two words stood out “My beloved wife.”

Fu Qingyin carefully waited for the ink to dry after finishing her writing, then folded the paper and placed it closest to her heart.

With that done, she turned to look at Wen Ying, her furrowed brows finally relaxing. After gazing for a while, she stood up and stepped outside to check on the medicine simmering on the corridor.

The small green clay stove slowly brewed the medicine over the fire, and Fu Qingyin picked up a cattail-leaf fan beside her, gently waving it, unfolding a tranquil scene like a serene painting.

The scent of medicine gradually spread, mingling with the smell of rain and bitter herbs in the corridor, an oddly comforting sensation.

Fu Qingyin would never forget this feeling in her lifetime Wen Ying lying on the bed inside while she brewed medicine for her.

Perhaps many things had already been decided the moment they first met. Fu Qingyin had always avoided confronting her emotions until she witnessed Wen Ying being beaten and abused by that vicious old woman.

Her heart ached terribly, as if those blows had landed on her own body.

Only at that moment did Fu Qingyin understand why she felt this way. Watching the flames flicker beneath the medicine pot, it was as if those sparks had fallen into her eyes like seeds.

Slowly taking root, sprouting, until they grew firm.

Because of the rain, the humidity outside was heavy, requiring occasional additions of firewood. Soon, the firewood gathered by Granny Gu in the corridor had burned out.

Fu Qingyin glanced at the oil-paper umbrella standing beside her but, with a fleeting look, walked out without hesitation.

The rain was light but enough to soak her clothes, falling like threads upon Fu Qingyin’s body and striking her cold, elegant face.

What kind of face was it?

Fair and flawless, yet it gave the impression of an unyielding piece of jade something to be admired from afar but never touched.

Paired with a long cyan dress that draped smoothly down to her ankles, revealing only the white embroidered shoes beneath.

As she walked, it was like ripples forming on green water, a breathtaking sight as if one had glimpsed a celestial maiden descending from the heavens.

The palace maids passing by quickly lowered their heads, envy flashing in their eyes.

Those who didn’t recognize her speculated whether she was a newly favored imperial consort, and some even believed Noble Consort Xin would soon fall out of favor.

Gossip spread like wildfire, eventually reaching Noble Consort Xin’s ears.

“What? You’re saying that Fu Qingyin is also some seductress, wandering the palace looking for a chance to tempt His Majesty?” Noble Consort Xin, seated on her chaise longue, had just lifted her teacup when she heard this, instantly smashing it to pieces in fury.

Her personal maid dared not disobey, repeating everything she had heard even embellishing it claiming that the decree from Yi Qing Kingdom vowing never to take concubines was merely a ploy.

Noble Consort Xin, accustomed to wielding power in the harem thanks to her influential maternal family, had long lost the ability for critical thought. Hearing her maid’s words, she immediately took them as truth.

Her chest heaved with anger, especially recalling how the old woman she had sent to torment Wen Ying had her entire wrist pierced and was now forced to recuperate.

That debt had yet to be settled.

Noble Consort Xin’s palace was undeniably resplendent, yet she remained unsatisfied. Dressed in lavish robes, she stood up, her skirt shimmering with fragments of gold as it swayed.

As her maid adjusted her garments, she remembered that the next day was the Spring Banquet and whispered a scheme into Noble Consort Xin’s ear.

“Your Highness, why not lock her in the woodshed tomorrow before the banquet? That way, she won’t be able to seduce His Majesty,” the palace maid suggested with a self-satisfied smirk, her sharp features twisting with malice. Yet, such a crude and straightforward method was precisely what Consort Xin favored.

Over the years in the imperial harem, she had used this very tactic to torment many disfavored concubines.

Without hesitation, Consort Xin nodded in agreement, the pearls and jade ornaments in her hair swaying so dazzlingly that it nearly blinded the maid.

For a fleeting moment, the maid couldn’t help but think Fu Qingyin was indeed far more beautiful.

But who would dare say such a thing? The maid obediently massaged Consort Xin’s shoulders and continued whispering schemes into her ear.

–

“A-Ying, the Spring Banquet is tomorrow. With your injuries, will you still be able to attend?” Fu Qingyin stood by the bedside, her sleeves slipping slowly down her arms as she moved. Wen Ying had just woken up, her eyes still heavy with sleep.

She rubbed her eyes drowsily and murmured, “I want to go because the dresses are beautiful, and because I want to see Her Majesty the Empress.”

Whenever Wen Ying felt wronged, she liked to linger near the Empress’s palace, as if seeking shelter under an invisible guardian. And strangely enough, the wishes she whispered beneath the palace walls always seemed to come true.

Now that she finally had the chance to attend a banquet, Wen Ying had already made up her mind, she wanted to go, no matter what.

Fu Qingyin’s eyes darkened slightly, but she nodded anyway, bringing over the medicine she had just brewed. As she leaned closer, Wen Ying noticed that large parts of Fu Qingyin’s robes were soaked.

“What happened? Didn’t you have an umbrella?” Wen Ying asked weakly, forcing the question out despite her pain.

Fu Qingyin’s eyes suddenly brightened, her beautiful gaze brimming with grievance as she pouted at Wen Ying like a wronged little fox. “A-Ying, tell me, how can one hold firewood while carrying an umbrella?”

Only then did Wen Ying realize she was no noble mistress. Even brewing medicine required a separate clay stove, and the firewood had to be gathered by hand.

In this vast imperial palace, even a single twig from the royal gardens was priceless. There was no way Fu Qingyin could have scavenged any to burn, she must have trudged all the way to the woodshed just to gather scraps.

With such hardship, carrying an umbrella would indeed have been inconvenient.

Wen Ying’s heart ached fiercely. Ignoring the stinging pain in her back, she knelt up on the bed and wrapped her arms around Fu Qingyin.

Almost instantly, she felt Fu Qingyin’s body stiffen in surprise, her entire frame rigid with tension.

“You don’t like me touching you, do you?” Wen Ying’s words held no hidden meaning, but to Fu Qingyin’s ears, they sounded unbearably suggestive.

Touching me? Fu Qingyin’s mind spun like a bewildered fox’s.

The mere thought made the tips of her ears burn red.

Unaware of Fu Qingyin’s turmoil, Wen Ying took her silence as confirmation.

Like a dejected little rabbit, she lowered her head, her voice soft and subdued. “Then will the beautiful sister feed me the medicine instead?”

Fu Qingyin snapped out of her daze, shaking her head frantically. “No, no, I like it very much.”

The moment the words left her lips, a deafening roar filled her ears. Her mind went blank, how had she just blurted that out?

Wen Ying blinked, then burrowed into the blankets with a shy giggle. Even the thick covers couldn’t muffle her laughter. Finally, when she’d laughed her fill, she sat up and pointed at Fu Qingyin’s face.

“Pretty sister is blushing!”

Fu Qingyin let out a relieved sigh, though a trace of disappointment lingered. This little rabbit-like Wen Ying, why couldn’t she understand?

As if making Fu Qingyin blush was some grand achievement, Wen Ying laughed until her own cheeks flushed pink. At last, she took the bowl of medicine Fu Qingyin handed her and began to drink.

Wen Ying hated bitterness and feared pain, but after years in the palace living worse than a maid, she had often wished for even a single sip of medicine when she fell ill. Now, she gulped it down in one go, afraid to waste even a drop.

Fu Qingyin recalled how other princesses needed pastries to chase down their medicine, followed by clear tea and countless other rituals. Yet this little princess before her was afraid of wasting a single drop.

It was clear how much she must have suffered when she fell ill without medicine in the past.

Fu Qingyin knew she wasn’t one to easily pity others, but with Wen Ying, she wanted to give her every good thing in the world.

Even after the medicine was gone, the bowl still carried a lingering bitterness.

From somewhere, Fu Qingyin produced a piece of candied fruit and offered it to Wen Ying.

When Wen Ying saw the treat resting in Fu Qingyin’s palm, she felt tears welling up. She had never tasted anything so fine before.

Even the pastries she’d eaten were leftovers hard and cold, nothing like the sweetness of preserved fruit.

Wen Ying began to sob, her tears pattering against the quilt like raindrops. Now it was raining both outside and inside the room.

Flustered, Fu Qingyin set the still-wrapped candied fruit on the bedside table along with its parchment. She sat on the edge of the bed and gently pulled Wen Ying into her arms, careful not to touch any sore spots.

Holding this warm, soft jade-like figure, she lost track of time. By the time Wen Ying had cried herself out, an ill-timed knock sounded at the door. Fu Qingyin first wiped Wen Ying’s tears, then rose to open the wooden door.

Outside stood the imperial physician holding a jar of ointment. “Lady Fu, I’ve come to apply medicine for Princess Wen Ying.”

“Apply medicine?” Fu Qingyin’s delicate brows furrowed. Most of Wen Ying’s wounds were on her back, neck, shoulders, and arms.

Was this old physician really going to see Wen Ying’s bare body?

Though Fu Qingyin knew physicians saw no gender in their patients, the thought still unsettled her. Politely, she asked if she could learn how to do it instead.

“Lady Fu, you mean you’ll apply it? There’s really nothing to learn just spread it on the wounds.” The physician had actually been dreading treating the princess. Though Wen Ying wasn’t a favored royal, she was still a grown maiden past her coming-of-age ceremony. He hadn’t dared to proceed carelessly.

He’d hesitated a long time before coming.

Fu Qingyin’s offer solved his dilemma perfectly. After receiving the ointment and some instructions, she saw the physician out and returned to prepare for the task.

Wen Ying sat on the bed, watching as Fu Qingyin approached with the medicine. Understanding what was to come, she showed no shyness she simply began untying her robes where she sat.

Fu Qingyin now felt that the little rabbit who knew nothing was the most alluring. He still didn’t know how to explain it to her, yet Wen Ying was already so natural about it.

Perhaps he was overthinking it. Fu Qingyin lowered his head, silently cursing himself as a beast for having such thoughts about little Wen Ying.

Only after berating himself did, he finally feel some relief. With an impassive expression, he walked over to find Wen Ying’s snow-white back exposed covered in bloody wounds.

“A-Ying, you’ve suffered.” At the sight of this, all his earlier thoughts were instantly forgotten, replaced only by heartache.

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