Early signs of talent
The damp, cold clothes clung to her skin like a second, frozen shell. Supported by Qingdai, Su Qingyue's every step landed on the thin, icy flagstones, producing a soft cracking sound. The chill shot from her feet to the top of her head, making her almost hear her teeth chatter.
"Miss, we're almost there..." Qingdai's voice was choked with sobs, whether from the cold or from fright, she used all her strength to support most of Su Qingyue's weight, her thin body swaying.
Su Qingyue didn't speak, but gritted her teeth and forced herself to take a step. Her sharp gaze swept over the pavilions and towers along the way—the upturned eaves and corners looked particularly austere in the bleak winter, and the peeling paint on the vermilion pillars resembled congealed bloodstains. This was the Prime Minister's residence, the place where the original owner had lived for more than ten years but had never been truly accepted.
"Behind the red gates, meat and wine go to waste; on the road, frozen corpses lie." This line of poetry inexplicably flashed through her mind, and a cold, self-deprecating smile curled at the corner of her lips. Now, she had become someone even worse off than the frozen corpses within those red gates.
The remote, dilapidated courtyard of my memory was even worse in reality. The paint on the gate was peeling badly, like it had a severe skin disease. Pushing it open made a groaning sound that made your teeth ache, as if it might fall apart at any moment. The courtyard was overgrown with weeds, and even in winter, the withered yellow stalks stood stubbornly, like soldiers holding their ground. The paper windows of the few low side rooms were tattered and rattled in the cold wind, like the gasps of the dying.
"Miss, come inside quickly!" Qingdai hurriedly helped her into the only bedroom that could at least provide shelter from the wind and rain.
The room looked like it had just been ransacked. On a hard bed, the blankets were so thin you could count the cotton wadding, and they smelled faintly of mildew. A chipped wooden table and two wobbly chairs—that was all the belongings. The air was thick with a lingering smell of medicine mixed with damp mustyness, making it hard to breathe.
Su Qingyue quickly assessed the situation: Living environment assessment—extremely poor. Comparable to those dilapidated houses in dire need of renovation in modern times. Hardware conditions were basically non-existent, and as for software... she touched her temples, which were still throbbing slightly; the original owner's fragmented memories were barely enough.
"Qingdai, find dry clothes and start a fire." Su Qingyue's voice trembled slightly from the cold, but her instructions were clear and unambiguous. She had no time for sentimentality; dealing with hypothermia was the top priority—during her rotations in the emergency department, she had witnessed far too many tragedies caused by hypothermia.
"Yes, Miss!" Qingdai hurriedly rummaged through the chests and cabinets, found two clean dresses that were also half-old and half-new, and then ran to the corner to grope for a brazier and charcoal.
Su Qingyue quickly took off her soaking wet, cold clothes and changed into dry ones. Although the fabric was rough, it kept out the moisture, making her feel a little better. She moved her stiff, frozen fingers and began to take her own pulse.
The pulse is floating, tight, and weak, indicating coldness invading the body, along with signs of fright. The patient's constitution is fundamentally weak. Without proper care, long-term health problems are inevitable.
"Miss, the charcoal... the charcoal is a bit damp, it might not light well..." Qingdai squatted by the brazier, trying hard to light the fire with a tinderbox. The thick smoke made her cough, but the sparks refused to ignite.
Su Qingyue walked over and took the tinderbox. She looked at the few dark, damp pieces of charcoal, then at the equally damp scraps of paper next to it, which she had used to start a fire. The survival skills she had learned during her modern camping trip came in handy. She adjusted the structure of the paper and charcoal, utilizing the principle of limited airflow, and with a few quick movements, a small flame finally flickered and rose, slowly licking at the charcoal.
"Miss, you're amazing!" Qingdai stared at the gradually reddening charcoal fire, her eyes sparkling with admiration. She felt that since her mistress woke up from the water, she seemed to know everything and nothing could stump her.
Su Qingyue didn't explain, but quickly examined the "medicinal herbs" that Qingdai had found—the herbs the original owner used daily. Several packets wrapped in straw paper, once opened, revealed either low-quality ingredients or simply common, unsuitable herbs. It was a miracle the original owner had survived this long on such meager supplies. Her stepmother, Wang, had been outrageously stingy with her provisions.
The warmth from the brazier gradually dispelled some of the chill, but Su Qingyue knew this was only temporary. Wang Shi and Su Qingxue, having suffered a setback at her hands, would not let it go easily. A tough battle was likely to follow.
Sure enough, what I feared most came to pass.
The courtyard gate was pushed open without any ceremony, and a well-dressed old woman, accompanied by two rough maids, swaggered in. This was Wang Shi's capable nanny, surnamed Qian, with a mean face and shrewd, opportunistic eyes.
"Is the Third Miss inside?" Granny Qian's voice was high-pitched and thin, with a condescending tone. Her voice came in before she even entered the room.
Qingdai's face paled, and she subconsciously looked at Su Qingyue.
Su Qingyue sat on the edge of the bed, covering her legs with the thin blanket. She subtly feigned weakness and panic on her face, but inwardly she sneered: Here they come. Quite efficient, indeed.
Granny Qian walked straight into the room, her gaze first sweeping over the dimly lit brazier, she pursed her lips, and then her eyes fell on Su Qingyue.
"Third Miss, Madam heard that you fell into the water and were frightened, and she's been very worried about you." Granny Qian said she was worried, but there was no concern on her face. "However, as you know, there are so many mouths to feed in this mansion, and the expenses are huge. You accidentally fell into the water, and getting a doctor, medicine, and charcoal for cooking all cost money. Madam said that in order to calm your nerves and prevent your illness from offending the noble people in the mansion, she has specially granted you permission to go to the Buddhist hall to rest for a few days, copy some scriptures, and calm your mind."
A Buddhist hall? Su Qingyue's memories were immediately stirred. It was one of the most remote and cold places in the Prime Minister's residence, damp in summer and like an icebox in winter. The so-called "quiet recuperation" was clearly a disguised form of confinement and corporal punishment! Moreover, given her current physical condition, going to such a place would only make things worse.
Qingdai panicked upon hearing this: "Granny Qian, Miss just fell into the water and is still weak. The Buddhist hall is so cold, how can she stand it! Please, please talk to Madam..."
"Shut up!" Granny Qian interrupted Qingdai sharply, her eyes sweeping over her with a piercing gaze. "What right do you, a servant, have to speak here! Madam is doing this for the Third Miss's own good, to get rid of the bad luck! Does the Third Miss intend to bring this bad luck from the water to the entire Prime Minister's residence?"
What a huge accusation! Su Qingyue scoffed inwardly. Using "bad luck" and "offending a noble person" to intimidate her was a classic tactic of feudal domestic power struggles.
If it were the original owner, she would probably be trembling with fear and resigned to her fate by now.
But the current Su Qingyue is not easily intimidated. She faced even more aggressive professors during her medical school defense and dealt with more difficult cases of medical disputes while working night shifts at the hospital.
She raised her eyes and looked calmly at Granny Qian. There was no fear or pleading in her eyes as expected. Instead, there was a clarity and calmness that made Granny Qian's heart skip a beat.
"You flatter me, Granny." Su Qingyue's voice was still weak, but every word was clear. "Qingyue falling into the water was an accident, and it was my own carelessness. How dare I mention 'bad luck'? I would never dare to offend Mother and all the distinguished guests."
She paused slightly, then subtly changed the subject: "However, after falling into the water, besides feeling cold, I also felt dizzy and nauseous, had heart palpitations and shortness of breath, numbness in my extremities, and my fingertips... seemed to be turning bluish-purple."
As she spoke, she slowly raised her hand. In the dim light, one could vaguely see that her slender fingertips were indeed an unhealthy bluish-purple due to the cold and poor blood circulation.
Granny Qian frowned, puzzled: "It's normal to experience some symptoms after falling into the water and catching a chill..."
"Is this normal?" Su Qingyue gently interrupted her, a faint, slightly puzzled smile curving her lips. "But I've read some miscellaneous books, and I vaguely remember that some cold symptoms are different from ordinary colds. Especially this kind that comes from the outside in, accompanied by specific numbness and changes in skin color... it seems like... the signs of contact with something unclean, or... being poisoned by some kind of cold substance?"
Her words were soft, as if she were only talking to herself, discussing the illness. But the words "unclean things" and "signs of something cold and evil" were like fine needles, precisely piercing the nerves of Granny Qian and her master.
In the secluded courtyards of a grand mansion, matters involving supernatural beings and underhanded methods are the most taboo. Once involved, it's incredibly difficult to clear one's name. It's a fact that Su Qingxue pushed her into the water. If she also "coincidentally" contracted some inexplicable "cold poison," could Su Qingxue, or even Madam Wang, escape responsibility? Even without concrete evidence, the reputation of "mistreating a concubine's daughter, leading to her death" would be enough to cause Madam Wang serious trouble. After all, the Prime Minister still has his pride.
Granny Qian's expression changed instantly. She stared at Su Qingyue's fingers, then looked into her overly calm, even inquisitive, eyes, and her heart began to pound. How could this Third Miss have become so...evil after falling into the water? Were her words truly pointed, or just a coincidence?
Su Qingyue took in the changes in her expression and knew that her words had worked. She coughed twice at the right moment, appearing even weaker: "Perhaps... Qingyue is overthinking it. It's just a common cold. But my body is really not cooperating. If I go to the Buddhist hall now, and my condition worsens, and word gets out, others who don't know the truth might misunderstand that Mother... doesn't care about the younger generation."
She used a strategic retreat to defer to advance, deftly throwing back accusations of "misunderstanding" and "lack of consideration."
Granny Qian was speechless. She had originally been ordered to put pressure on the unlucky illegitimate daughter and lock her in the Buddhist hall, out of sight, out of mind. Unexpectedly, the other party not only hinted at the possibility of being "poisoned" in just a few words, but also elevated the reason for not going to the Buddhist hall to the level of "protecting the lady's reputation".
If we force her to go to the Buddhist hall, what if something really happens to her, or she talks nonsense outside... wouldn't the lady get herself into a lot of trouble?
Granny Qian's eyes flickered as she quickly weighed the pros and cons in her mind. It seemed she couldn't force the issue today. This Third Miss was strange!
“Since Miss is unwell, then… then the matter of the Buddhist hall shall be put on hold for now.” Granny Qian’s tone softened, with a hint of reluctance. “You should rest well in your own courtyard. This old servant will report to Madam. However, there are rules regarding expenses in the manor, and I hope Miss will understand.”
This means they'll also cut back on her food, clothing, and other necessities.
Su Qingyue understood, but showed just the right amount of "gratitude" on her face: "Thank you for your consideration, Granny. Qingyue understands."
As if afraid of getting into trouble if she stayed any longer, Granny Qian hurriedly left with her people. Compared to when she arrived, her figure was less arrogant and more hasty.
The courtyard fell silent again.
Qingdai only breathed a long sigh of relief after Granny Qian's figure disappeared through the doorway. She patted her chest, still shaken, and said, "Miss! You...you were so amazing! I was almost scared to death! How did you know that saying those things would frighten Granny Qian?"
Su Qingyue stared intently at the flickering flames in the basin.
"She's not afraid of me, she's afraid of what I'm implying," Su Qingyue said calmly. "In this grand mansion, some things can't be said, even if they're done. Once they're out in the open, they become leverage." She was using information asymmetry and psychological warfare. A modern soul like her, she understood the power of language and suggestion all too well.
“But Miss, what you called cold poison…” Qingdai was still a little worried.
“For now, it seems to be just a cold.” Su Qingyue gave her a reassuring look. “But we need to make them ‘think’ that there might be a more complicated reason.” This is a deterrent, and also a temporary shield.
Qingdai seemed to understand but not quite, but seeing her mistress's composed demeanor, she felt inexplicably at ease.
The crisis was temporarily averted. Su Qingyue knew this was only a temporary measure. The Wang family wouldn't easily give up on suppressing her. And she herself needed to recover her health as soon as possible and find a way to make a living in this world.
She looked out the window at the still gloomy sky, her gaze resolute.
The crisis at the Buddhist temple has been resolved, but this first step, "showing initial promise," is merely the beginning. The road ahead must be paved step by step with their own wisdom and hard work.
Now that she has taken over this body and this identity, she will never allow herself to be slaughtered again!
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