Chapter 97 I shouldn't have brought her here
"Don't move," the man said, his voice hoarse as his well-defined abdomen bulged with sharp lines. "If you keep freezing, you'll be swollen tomorrow."
Wen Ning only felt her frozen fingertips first become numb and then warm, and her curled up body gradually stretched out.
Finally, she changed into clean clothes scented with fragrance. The soft fabric wrapped in warmth touched her, making her feel as if the heartbreaking things she just learned about might just be a dream.
The man wrapped her tightly in a brocade quilt and lay beside her in his shirt.
Seeing her breathing gradually steady and her face fade away from its paleness, he softly asked, "Ning'er, what did you hear? Can you tell me about it?"
Wen Ning nodded and motioned for him to take the booklet on the table.
The man stood up as he was told and took the palm-sized booklet.
As soon as he opened the first page, his brows involuntarily frowned.
The yellowed paper was covered with crooked ink marks, including words and drawings, like a child's graffiti, with some words missing a dot or a horizontal line.
Sometimes the two little people are smiling at each other, and sometimes one of them is crying secretly, with crooked lines drawn next to them as a dialogue.
He patiently flipped through a few pages, but couldn't understand it even by guessing. It was more like a person who was not very literate and just wrote down whatever came to his mind.
Wen Ning raised her eyes and looked at his tense jawline. "Ning'er, tell the Marquis, okay?"
The man loosened his knuckles slightly and said softly, "Okay."
So she found a suitable position in his arms, stroked her fingertips over the childish calligraphy and painting on the book, and spoke slowly.
"My name is Yin'er, and I have lived in the palace since I can remember.
Life in the palace was not easy, and life for the servants was even harder.
But I am particularly different. They say that my father defiled the empress and is an unforgivable sinner, and I am the offspring of a sinner, so I cannot even live the life of a servant.
My small figure shuttles through the changing seasons, humbly lying at the feet of the nobles.
When washing clothes in winter, the icy water cuts my hands, and I sleep in the haystack in the firewood room listening to the howling of the cold wind.
In the summer, I squatted in the corner to wash the toilet, with sewage mixed with sweat dripping down and mosquitoes making nests on the festering wounds.
The plum rain fell continuously in early spring, and my old wounds turned white and festered. I knelt in the mud and pulled weeds.
In autumn, I sweep leaves and pick fruits. My fingertips are so cracked that it hurts, and I move them until the moon is above the treetops.
The food is rotten and the clothes are torn. Anyone can step on them and call them a little bitch. If you are lazy, you will be beaten with a cane.
At that time, I always wondered what good days were like.
Can I have a pair of shoes that keep my feet warm and a hot meal?
But I have never seen it or eaten it.
Life in the palace was so lonely and helpless.
Until I was transferred to Qimei Garden.
There is always a handsome man who comes here often and asks me to serve him every time.
He said he liked my black hair, which was as soft as a cloud. Every time he came, he would stroke it for a long time. Before leaving, he would cut off a small strand with golden scissors and carefully put it into his purse.
Later he taught me how to read. He took a branch from the plum garden and wrote my name on the snow.
Yin means peace.
My fingertips were frozen, but I was still craving the warmth of his palm and even hoped that the snow would never stop.
I always look forward to his coming.
On days when he didn't come, I would stroke my hair and stare blankly, or squat under the plum tree and draw the words he taught me on the ground.
He was the first person who smiled at me, touched my hair, and held my hand while I wrote. He was like a ray of light leaking into the woodshed in the cold winter. I knew I should hide, but I couldn't help but desperately try to get closer to that warmth.
After several years like this, my body grew stronger and my eyes and eyebrows grew back.
That day when he came to the plum garden, his fingertips suddenly stopped when they brushed my cheek. His eyes lingered on my face for a long time, and he whispered, "Yin'er, you are so beautiful."
Perhaps the falling plum blossoms in this plum garden are so charming that people forget who they are.
On that snowy night, with the candlelight flickering, he undressed me, and we made love, I suddenly felt that this world was not that bad after all.
But later he gradually changed.
He no longer taught me how to write or smiled at me.
From the gentle words at the beginning to the physical abuse later, pulling my hair and slamming my head against the wall, he called me a sinner and my father disobedient.
I then realized that my father was still alive.
I knelt on the ground and begged him to let me see my father.
I just want to ask, 'Daddy, are you a sinner? Am I really born to be abused?'
But the man never agreed, he was so bad.
I still fell in love with him.
Loving the occasional kindness he gives is like a thirsty person holding a bowl of water mixed with poison, and finding it sweet when he drinks it.
I wanted to tell her that I was pregnant with his child.
But that day, he entangled my hair with his fingertips and said coldly, "Your father loves you the most. As long as you send him a strand of hair every month to let him know that you are still alive, he will continue to prepare medicine..."
Wen Ning's voice broke off at the last word. Tears had already burst out of her eyes, streaming down her cheeks and wetting her clothes. Even her breathing was choked with sobs.
When Xie Jinglan saw her like this, he felt as if something was tightly gripping his heart, causing him to be unable to breathe.
The man pressed her into his arms and gently patted her back with his hands, his movements full of pity.
"It's my fault. It's my fault. I shouldn't have brought Ning'er here."
He shouldn't have brought her here.
Such things were not uncommon in the palace.
The life of a palace maid is as light as the snow falling on the plum branch. No matter how timidly it blooms today, it will melt away in a gust of wind tomorrow, leaving no trace.
In the eyes of many people, people like Yin'er are just toys in the hands of the powerful. They will be rewarded with some sweetness when they are in a good mood, and discarded like a worn-out shoe when they are tired of her.
But he brought her here anyway, letting her break through the layers of filth and sadness.
Xie Jinglan looked down at the person in his arms who was crying and trembling all over. He brushed her wet eyelashes with his fingertips, and the pain in his heart came back.
Her tears, like fine needles, silently pierced into the softest part of his heart, making his internal organs tremble.
"Good Ning'er...don't cry..."
Wen stared at him, her peach blossom eyes swollen from crying like dewy peaches.
"My Lord... Even if Ning'er didn't tell me, I'm sure you've guessed who this man is, right?"
Xie Jinglan nodded, his fingertips gently running through her hair, his voice carrying a hint of cold clarity, "Crown Prince of the Eastern Palace."
"I roughly understand," he paused, his eyes darkening. "Regardless of whether that scandalous incident was true or not, the Queen has a handle on your master. Knowing that he's quite knowledgeable about poisons, she keeps his daughter in the palace simply to exploit his weakness so she can concoct medicines for them and carry out some shady acts of harm."
He sneered, his tone concealing his disdain for the palace's intrigues. "Later, when the Crown Prince grew up, he naturally became the one manipulating the situation. From the beginning to the end, Yin'er was just a pawn in the hands of mother and son to control your master."
At this point, Wen Ning suddenly shuddered, and the hand that was holding the man's collar tightened unconsciously.
The palace is like a deep sea, with invisible swords and sabers everywhere. The prince is so scheming towards a palace maid, let alone the marquis who holds military power and is feared by them.
She subconsciously pressed her hands on his chest, her eyes filled with anxiety, "My Lord...if you refuse to marry the Fifth Princess, will they also use such shady tactics to plot against you?"
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