Chapter 222 Phantom of a Rainy Night
The rain at Prince Rong's mansion came fast and hard, bean-sized raindrops pounding the glazed tiles of the east courtyard, sending up layers of mist. As dusk fell, the sheep-horn palace lanterns hanging in the corridor swayed in the wind, stretching the shadows of small swallows across the carved columns, stretching them long and short. She was holding Mianxin, who had just fallen asleep, and her fingertips gently stroked her daughter's soft hair—the little girl had been making a fuss at the banquet for half the night, and tears still hung on her eyelashes, like dew-soaked crabapple petals.
"Princess, you've been staring at the little princess for half an hour." Little Mosquito came in with ginger soup, his blue cloth jacket stained with mud. "Damn, bang! It's raining like water from heaven. Little Zhuozi went to the west courtyard to deliver a message, and he hasn't come back yet."
When Xiaoyanzi looked up, the red and gold crabapple hairpins at her temples jingled. She was wearing a moon-white cheongsam embroidered with magnolias, with silver thread threading around the collar and cuffs, a Jiangnan style specially sent by Fang's mother. "I guess Zhihua is trying to make things difficult for him again," she said in a low voice, her eyes scanning the rain outside the window. "Where's Yongqi? Still in the study?"
Before he finished speaking, Xiao Dengzi's voice came from outside the courtyard, announcing with some panic: "Princess! The prince is back, and... he brought a royal physician with him!"
Xiaoyanzi's heart tightened, and she instinctively tightened her arms around Mianxin. Mianxin, startled awake, pouted and about to cry, but her mother gently covered her mouth with a swaddling cloth embroidered with lotus flowers. When Yongqi entered, his navy blue uniform was already mostly soaked, his hair dripping with water, and his face was even darker than the weather outside. Following behind him, Imperial Physician Li, carrying a medicine box, his graying beard stained with raindrops, bowed to Xiaoyanzi, his eyes flickering.
"What's wrong?" Xiaoyanzi handed the child to the wet nurse. When she stood up, the hem of her silver-embroidered skirt swept across the ground, stirring up a gust of wind. "Is Mianrui feeling unwell again?"
Yongqi said nothing, merely pulling a neatly folded sheet of hemp paper from his sleeve. The edges were wrinkled from rainwater, and upon it was a crooked little figure painted in cinnabar, seven silver needles piercing its heart—the most vicious "Heart Locking Curse" of Jiangnan sorcery. As Xiaoyanzi's fingertips touched the paper, they recoiled as if burned. Memories of being falsely accused of stabbing the little figure in a past life suddenly flooded back, darkening her vision.
"This was found in the corner of the west courtyard." Yongqi's voice was dry. "Doctor Li said... the powder on it is exactly the same as the sachet you used to calm Mianxin yesterday."
The palace lanterns in the corridor suddenly crackled and sparked, illuminating everyone's faces. Xiaoyanzi noticed the struggle in Yongqi's eyes and suddenly laughed, her laughter sounding particularly crisp amidst the sound of rain. "So, Your Highness, you think I used my own daughter's tranquilizing incense to stab Zhihua's son?"
She raised her hand and plucked the hairpin from her temples. The golden petals of the crabapple blossom gleamed coldly in the light. "Do you still think I should be tied up, drugged, and tortured into confessing, just like I was in the palace back then?"
She spoke the last few words very softly, but they pierced Yongqi's heart like needles. He clenched his fists tightly, his knuckles turning white. "That's not what I meant..."
"What does the prince mean?" Xiaoyanzi stepped closer, the silver thread of her cheongsam brushing against the back of Yongqi's hand. "Does he think that because Zhihua cried in Mianyi's arms in the middle of the night, saying she dreamt someone was trying to kill her son, I should be blamed for it?"
The sound of rain suddenly intensified, clattering against the window lattice. Doctor Li ducked his neck and tried to retreat, but was tripped by a small insect. "Your Highness," the old doctor slumped to his knees, his medicine chest crashing to the floor, spilling out several porcelain bottles. "This powder is indeed benzoin, a unique type of medicine from Jiangnan. But...but the concubine also has a similar sachet in her courtyard. They say...they say it was a gift from Miss Fang..."
"Miss Fang?" Xiaoyanzi raised an eyebrow, suddenly remembering the batch of Suzhou embroidery sachets Ziwei had sent three months ago. "I remember half of them were given to the West Courtyard. Could it be..."
Before he could finish his words, a sudden commotion erupted from the west courtyard, mingled with Mian Yi's cries. Little Zhuozi tumbled into the courtyard, his rain hat falling to the ground, revealing his swollen cheek. "Your Highness! The concubine said the little prince had a convulsion and vomited blood..."
Yongqi's face suddenly changed, and he turned and ran towards the west courtyard. Xiaoyanzi stared at his back, then suddenly grabbed the teacup on the table and smashed it to the ground. The blue and white porcelain shattered into several pieces, one of which splashed onto the palace lantern, sending flames shooting up half a foot high.
"Small table, get an umbrella ready." She bent down to pick up the crabapple hairpin from the broken porcelain pieces and put it back in her hair. "Let's go see what drama this Concubine Chen is acting in."
In the rain, the palace lanterns in the East Courtyard flickered, reminiscent of the wind-swept sky lantern in Shufangzhai years ago, swaying precariously. As Xiaoyanzi, skirt lifted, crossed the threshold, she suddenly remembered something Emperor Qianlong had said: "Rebirth is not about avoiding disaster, but about making what is coming come more clearly."
The main room in the west courtyard was already in chaos. Zhihua knelt on the ground, holding the purple-faced Mianyi. Her pearl hairpins were scattered, and her moon-white nightgown was stained with blood. Seeing Xiaoyanzi enter, she suddenly pounced on her and tried to grab her clothes, but Xiaodengzi and Xiaozhuozi held her arms.
"Sister! Why are you so cruel!" Zhihua cried bitterly, tears mixed with powder flowed down her face, leaving two marks, "How did Mian Yi bother you? Why do you want to do such a cruel thing!"
Xiaoyanzi ignored her and went straight to the bedside to check on Mianyi. The child's teeth were clenched, and there was indeed blood at the corner of his mouth, but there was a faint red mark around his neck, as if someone had strangled him with a cloth. She was about to reach out to touch him, but Yongqi waved him away.
"What else do you want to do?" Prince Rong's voice was bloodshot, and his eyes were red. "Zhihua has already given the sachet and the talisman to Mother. How long are you going to keep quibbling?"
Xiaoyanzi looked at him, and suddenly felt a familiarity in the scene. In her previous life, at the clan residence, Yongqi had also questioned her, his eyes reddened, about her betrayal. The rain continued to fall outside the corridor. She slowly took a half step back, the hem of her silver-threaded cheongsam brushing against the medicinal residue on the ground—mixed with croton powder, which shouldn't have been there. The smell was masked by the strong herbal aroma, but it couldn't be hidden from Liu Qing and Liu Hong, who had worked in the pharmacy since childhood.
"I only have one question for you, Your Highness." She raised her hand to press down on the hairpins on her temples, her fingertips turning white from the pressure. "What did you say when I blocked that arrow for you in the Imperial Garden?"
Yongqi froze. That year during the hunting expedition, an assassin's arrow had aimed at his back. It was Xiaoyanzi who had dove like a mad swallow, and the arrow had grazed her shoulder blade, leaving a scar that still lingers. He had held her, bleeding profusely, in his arms, and sworn an oath on the hunting grounds—to trust and protect her for the rest of his life, unwavering.
"Your Highness may have forgotten, but I haven't," Little Mosquito suddenly interrupted, clutching a half-eaten piece of osmanthus cake. "At that time, Your Highness said, 'If anything happens to Little Swallow, I'll bury you all with me.' And now you're believing in the trick of stabbing a doll?"
Zhihua suddenly screamed: "How dare you talk back, you slave!" She struggled to hit Xiao Wanzi, but was tripped by her loose long hair. The gold hairpin on her head fell to the ground and rolled to Xiao Yanzi's feet.
It was a phoenix hairpin inlaid with rubies. Xiaoyanzi recognized it—it was the gift Emperor Qianlong had given Yongqi last month as a full-moon gift, asking him to give it to his eldest son, Mianyi. The ruby on the hairpin was chipped, and the edges were stained with dark brown powder, a different color from the cinnabar on the talisman. It looked more like...
"Doctor Li." Xiaoyanzi picked up the golden hairpin with her toes. "Look at this powder. Isn't it the same color as the blood that the young prince vomited?"
The old doctor trembled as he picked up the hairpin, scraped some powder with his fingernail, and sniffed it. Suddenly, his face turned pale: "This is Su Mu! It's used to fake vomiting blood..."
Zhihua's sobs abruptly stopped, like a cat being strangled. Yongqi's eyes swept over her disheveled clothes, and he suddenly noticed that the cuffs of her moon-white nightgown were stained with the same cinnabar mark as the one on the talisman.
The sound of rain had faded at some point, leaving only the patter of water droplets on the eaves. Xiaoyanzi turned and walked out, her silver-threaded banner drawing a graceful arc under the corridor lights. As she reached the door, she glanced back at Yongqi, who stood there stunned. Her voice, so soft it sounded like a sigh, "Tomorrow I'll go to the Cining Palace and tell the Empress Dowager everything I didn't explain at the Imperial Clan Court."
In the halo of the palace lanterns, the crabapple hairpins on her temples flickered, just like the crabapple blossoms that never burned out in the courtyards of Jiangnan.
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