Chapter 77 (None)

As the sun gradually set in the west, the western courtyard of Xiefang Pavilion was bathed in its golden light. The moment the tightly closed doors and windows were opened, a wave of steam, like that from a steamer, accompanied by a sour, foul odor, swept in.

Wenjuan was caught off guard and almost fainted from the shock. She raised her hand to cover her mouth and nose, and quickly took a few breaths. Although the heat was still intense, the air smelled better.

The woman in purple robes covered her face with a handkerchief in one hand and rested the other on her forehead, her eyes wide as she peered into the half-open room. The room, backlit, was pitch black, with tables and chairs scattered haphazardly, and a pile of miscellaneous items behind an overturned armchair, which seemed to move slightly at that moment.

"A rat!" Zishan cried out in fright, taking two steps back.

“That’s not a rat, it’s a person.” Wenjuan glared at Zishan, her expression darkening.

The maids and nannies working in the west wing stood at a distance. Wenjuan beckoned them forward and instructed, "Open all the doors and windows. We've never been short of candles, so why aren't you lighting them?"

An older nanny muttered a complaint, "Madam Zhuang is rarely sober. A while ago, after nightfall, when the lamps were lit, she was playing with the candles and almost burned the house down."

"Can Lady Zhuang really reach the lamps under the eaves?" Wen Juan said casually.

The old woman fell silent, then hurriedly and guiltily opened the doors and windows, and took out some tallow candles to light the lamps.

Wen Juan, being a servant herself, knew how hard their work was in the Cold Palace, and that the sick Consort Zhuang was even more difficult to serve than the others, so she remained silent.

After her eyes adjusted for a while, the old woman held a lantern and shone it by the door, and Wenjuan was finally able to see Zhuang Meiren curled up behind the armchair. Her dirty hair was disheveled and unkempt, and her thin, bony face had long since obscured her former beauty. Her eyes were fixed on her, unblinking, and sinister.

Wen Juan felt a chill run down her spine from the stare. She curtsied and tried to speak softly, "Consort Zhuang, I am Hui..." Realizing that Consort Zhuang was unaware that Jiang Ling had already been given an honorific title, she changed her words, "This servant is Wen Juan, who served Consort Shu. Does Consort Zhuang still remember me?"

Zhuang Meiren seemed poised to pounce, staring intently at Wen Juan without uttering a word. Wen Juan sighed softly and, following Jiang Ling's instructions, said, "Meiren, the Fourth Prince..."

"My son!"

This time, Zhuang Meiren reacted, letting out a hoarse scream and rushing towards Wen Juan from behind the armchair with lightning speed. However, although she moved quickly, her body was ultimately too weak, and after staggering a few steps, she collapsed to the ground.

"Beauty!" Wen Juan was startled and rushed forward to help her, but Zhuang Meiren grabbed her hand tightly.

"My son! Give me back my son!" Zhuang Meiren's fingers were like withered twigs, veins bulging. With all her might, she cried out repeatedly in a blood-stained voice, "My son, give me back my son!"

Zhuang Meiren was covered in filth, her fingernails digging into Wen Juan's skin through her clothes. Wen Juan hissed in pain, and Zi Shan quickly stepped forward and pulled Zhuang Meiren away.

"It's alright," Wenjuan said. Zishan hesitated for a moment, then stood guard beside her, still worried.

In a short time, Wenjuan was soaked in sweat, which flowed into her eyes and stung them.

"My lady, the Fourth Prince is doing well. He is with the Third Prince and is being looked after by Consort Shu."

Wen Juan sighed, looking at the disfigured Zhuang Meiren, and said gently, "Consort Shu saved you before. The Fourth Prince was seriously ill, and Consort Shu helped him recover. Consort Shu asked me to tell you to take good care of yourself and that once you are well, you will be able to see the Fourth Prince and be reunited with your son."

Zhuang Meiren looked completely bewildered, but tears gradually welled up in her eyes. She let go of his hand and began to mutter to herself.

Her voice was muffled, but Wenjuan listened carefully and heard her repeatedly calling out "Fourth Prince".

“Look at this white jade platform, doesn’t it look like a stage? The actors on the stage are more or less mad. Otherwise, how could they sing those ridiculous and absurd plays?”

Wenjuan recalled Jiang Ling's words when they passed the white marble platform in front of Kunning Palace that day, and her nose couldn't help but sting with tears.

There was no cure for Consort Zhuang's illness unless she could overcome her inner demons. Wenjuan called Zishan over, arranged the tables and chairs in the room, and pulled Consort Zhuang, who was still constantly chanting "Fourth Prince," to sit down in a chair.

"Please take good care of yourself, my lady. The Fourth Prince needs your help. I'll head back now," Wenjuan said softly.

Zhuang Meiren looked up at Wen Juan, but after just one glance, she lowered her head again and continued reading.

Wenjuan walked out of the house, took out about five qian of silver from her purse, and handed it to the head nanny.

The old woman's eyes lit up, and she quickly took it, bowing and scraping as she said, "Thank you, Madam Wen! Thank you, Madam Wen!"

"The weather is hot, so the doors and windows must not be closed tightly and must be opened frequently for ventilation. Zhuang Meiren's food and water must be provided, and her clothes must be washed and changed often."

Wenjuan gave a bunch of instructions, and the nanny agreed to them all. She didn't believe it, so she used both kindness and threats, saying, "I will come often. If the beauty is doing well, you will be rewarded. If the beauty is not doing well, you will all be serving others. Don't blame me for not reminding you. The beauty is the birth mother of the fourth prince. No matter how seriously ill she is, she will not allow us servants to bully her."

The old woman was taken aback for a moment, then quickly replied, "Don't worry, Miss Wen, I will take good care of you. I'll go fetch water for you to wash up right away."

Wen Juan and Zi Shan watched over the scene themselves, and Zhuang Meiren did not struggle, letting them wash, change clothes, and clean the room and bed like a puppet.

As darkness fell, the west courtyard became slightly cooler. Wen Juan and Zi Shan gave the nannies a few more instructions before returning to Fan Ying Pavilion together.

The Fan Ying Pavilion was brightly lit. The Third Prince was smiling, while the Fourth Prince remained silent. Wen Juan went to the main room after washing up, where Jiang Ling was quickly eating. The Third Prince sat against the wall, sipping melon, while Qing Tan and Dan Gui served him. Yun Xia and Yun Hui stayed by the sleeping Fourth Prince's rocking chair.

"You're back." Jiang Ling said to Wen Juan without stopping her work, "You two go eat first, we'll talk later."

The Third Prince will need to nurse, bathe, and go to sleep later. At night, no one but Jiang Ling can soothe him. If the Third Prince cries, the Fourth Prince, woken up, will cry along with him. The two of them cry like they're having a competition, their cries giving everyone a headache.

Jiang Ling was constantly on the go, even his meals were rushed, like a forced march. Wen Juan returned to the side room, where A Ruo had prepared food for her and Zi Shan, and the group sat down together to eat.

With the arrival of summer and an abundance of vegetables, Fan Ying Pavilion has always served light meals, mainly consisting of fish, shrimp, and eggs. Wen Juan and the others' meals were similar to Jiang Ling's. A Ruo deftly peeled the boiled shrimp, and in no time, her plate of shrimp was completely devoured.

"I have some more here, Sister Aruo, you can have them." Zishan didn't have much of an appetite, so she pushed the shrimp on her plate in front of Aruo.

"Then I won't be polite." A'Ruo happily picked up a shrimp and started peeling it, placing the first shrimp meat into the purple bowl.

Zishan paused for a moment, then picked up the shrimp without ceremony and ate it. A'Ruo pouted, feigning anger, and said, "Fine, you wait here for me; I was planning to peel the shrimp for you!"

"Sister Aruo, please forgive me. You can eat the rest of the shrimp, no need to give them to me," Zishan said with a forced smile.

"What's wrong? Did you go to Xiefang Pavilion and feel so sad that you can't even eat shrimp?" Aruo asked.

The old man in purple sighed, "Everyone says that Lady Zhuang is as ethereal as an orchid, with an air of otherworldly grace. But now that I see Lady Zhuang, well, to be frank, she's no different from a madwoman."

A'Ruo now possessed a commanding presence, and she wasn't surprised by Zishan's words. She first glanced at Wenjuan, who was silently eating, and said, "Xiefang Pavilion was considered the palace of an unfavored concubine. Her Highness was only a lowly concubine before. Back then, Her Highness was also troubled and fell seriously ill. I thought Her Highness wouldn't make it through, but who knew she would pull through. Her Highness has come to terms with life, and her days are getting better every day. It doesn't matter whether someone is favored or not; a person must first be able to let go. Those who can't let go go crazy, they're gone."

Zishan bit her chopsticks, looking thoughtful. Wenjuan seemed to want to say something, but ultimately remained silent. She quickly put down her bowl and chopsticks, poured herself some tea to rinse her mouth, and said, "Hurry up, bring back the Qingtan and Dangui tea for dinner. The Empress will be busy soon."

The two quickly began to eat. After the meal, they went to the main room to relieve the servants of Dan Gui and Qing Tan. Wen Juan had already cleared away the dishes, and a young palace maid took them and returned them to the kitchen.

The third prince sipped some melon and then started whimpering. Jiang Ling quickly carried him to the side room to breastfeed, wash him, and coax him to sleep.

The fourth prince woke up, and Wu, the wet nurse, took a break. Yuan, the wet nurse, took over feeding him. Fortunately, after nursing, the fourth prince stopped crying and fell asleep after his diaper was changed.

Jiang Ling was finally able to catch her breath. After washing up, she leaned against the couch and listened as Wen Juan, dressed in purple, whispered about her trip to Xie Fang Pavilion: "This servant was instructed by Your Highness to give the silver to the nanny. If there's a benefit to keep her in check, the servant will be more attentive."

Although Jiang Ling had already guessed Zhuang Meiren's condition, he still felt compassion and said, "The weather is too hot. Have someone send some ice tomorrow. As for whether she will get better, that depends on fate."

Looking across the entire palace, Jiang Ling was probably the most devout person hoping that Consort Zhuang would recover.

First of all, she would no longer have to support the fourth prince, and it would be best for the fourth prince to be raised by his biological mother.

Secondly, if the Fourth Prince were to be raised by Consort Zhao, although his path as a prince was destined to be fraught with hardship from birth, he was too young, and it would be far too cruel. Jiang Ling was unwilling to do such a thing, for she had people she wanted to protect. As a father, Emperor Yuanming's concern was worthless, as insincere as the ornate prose drafted by the Ministry of Rites for bestowing honors.

Wenjuan and the others often went to Xiefang Pavilion. Zhuang Meiren's condition gradually improved. Although she was not as clear-headed as a normal person, she was calmer more often and could occasionally say a few words normally.

Time flies, summer turns to autumn, and after a part of Kunning Palace was incorporated, Fanying Pavilion, though still called a pavilion, is no smaller than a palace, and now has a layout of front hall and rear sleeping quarters.

The third prince turned one year old and was officially given the name Xiao Yunzan. In addition to Jiang Ling's honorific title, Daqing, a banquet was held at Fanying Pavilion.

The noble ladies entered the palace to receive a banquet, and Jiang Ling was flattered and asked to pay her respects. She felt like she was being fawned over, and at the same time, her long-lost social anxiety returned to her.

After the banquet, Jiang Ling stayed at home and devoted himself to taking care of the Third Prince and the Fourth Prince.

This winter was exceptionally cold, and Zhuang Meiren's health was severely compromised. She fell ill when the first snow fell, suffering from a persistent cough.

Unfortunately, Consort Zhuang bravely endured the harsh winter and the lingering chill of early spring. However, she did not live to see the true warmth of spring and the blossoming of flowers, nor did she witness the Fourth Prince's first birthday.

He passed away suddenly.

Emperor Yuanming was deeply saddened and posthumously conferred upon Consort Zhuang the title of Consort Shun. Jiang Ling was too busy to attend to the funeral arrangements, so Consort Lin took charge of all the funeral rites.

Consort Zhuang Shun's body was laid to rest at Xiefang Pavilion. Jiang Ling calculated that this was the third time Xiefang Pavilion had hosted a funeral.

The funeral rites for a concubine were of a high standard. A concubine's mausoleum was built after that of a consort, requiring the construction of a tomb and the inclusion of burial objects. From the grand encoffining and burial ceremony to the final burial, the entire process took nearly a year and a half.

The rank of the noblewomen who entered the palace to mourn was raised accordingly, and the Xiefang Pavilion was filled with mourning tents, with the palace maids and eunuchs standing respectfully in attendance.

On a day when the breeze is gentle and the sun is warm, Xiefang Pavilion is filled with solemnity. The somber cries, rising and falling, accompany the lingering fragrance of incense and paper money in the air.

Jiang Ling, dressed in simple clothes, arrived at the main room where the coffin was placed. The weather was getting warmer, and the corners of the room were filled with ice chests, giving off a chilling atmosphere. In the very center, a nanmu coffin was placed, wrapped in an outer coffin, with auspicious golden characters painted on the vermilion lacquer.

Consort Lin rested in the reed shed, while Granny Xu and Xiuyun were tending to the mourning inn. Upon seeing Jiang Ling enter, everyone in the room quickly greeted him, and Xiuyun offered incense.

Jiang Ling nodded and accepted the incense, stepped forward, bowed, and placed the incense in the incense burner. Granny Xu then handed over lamp oil, which Jiang Ling added to the ever-burning lamp. She added paper money and ingots to the basin, paused briefly, and the ceremony was complete.

Stepping out of the mourning hall and into the sunlight, Jiang Ling finally felt a bit warmer. She didn't intend to linger and went to bid farewell to Consort Lin.

Consort Zhao was also in the reed shed. After Jiang Ling entered, she stood up, and Consort Lin stood up a step later, exchanging greetings with Jiang Ling.

Consort Zhao immediately knelt down to greet Jiang Ling, "Consort Hui is here too, but where is the Fourth Prince?"

Jiang Ling nodded to her and said, "The Fourth Prince is too young. There are too many people and the air is too thick here, so I didn't bring him. Filial piety isn't for this time. We'll have him kowtow at Consort Shun's tomb when he's older."

Consort Lin said, "She won't be a year old for a few more days, how would she know these things? If she falls ill because of this, Consort Shun will not be at peace even in the afterlife."

She gestured for Jiang Ling to sit down, saying, "I was just talking to Consort Zhao about the Fourth Prince's first birthday. Now that you're here, I'll hear your thoughts."

Jiang Ling sat down, and Consort Lin said, "Consort Shun is still handling the funeral arrangements, so it's not appropriate to celebrate the Fourth Prince's first birthday. However, the first birthday is different from other ages. Even if there's no banquet, there's still the custom of 'grasping the baby' for the first time, bestowing a name, and recording in the family genealogy. The Fourth Prince is in your palace, so you can handle it. We'll send gifts from various places to celebrate the first birthday."

“A-Zan is naughty, and the Fourth Prince is becoming more and more lively. I’m exhausted from taking care of both of them.”

Jiang Ling said casually, then changed the subject and said to Consort Zhao, "If Consort Zhao has the time, how about we hold the Fourth Prince's first birthday celebration at Xiangxue Pavilion, with Consort Zhao helping to take care of it?"

Consort Zhao couldn't help but show a look of joy, while Consort Lin was caught off guard and stood there stunned.