08
Not two days after returning from Chang Le Palace, Si Mianmian actually fell ill.
The chill from the recent sunbathing hadn't completely dissipated, and coupled with the exhaustion from days of painstaking management and dealing with various parties, as well as the damp and cold air she'd picked up while kneeling on the stone slab outside the Princess's palace, her already delicate body finally couldn't withstand the combined onslaught.
At first, it was just a slight cough and chills, which Si Mianmian didn't pay much attention to. She simply had Qiuhe make her a bowl of ginger soup and then rested. But in the middle of the night, she developed a high fever. Her whole body was burning hot, her cheeks were flushed, and she started to mumble incoherently, sometimes sporadic fragments of modern life, and sometimes mixed with fear of the original owner's past.
Consort Wen was terrified, clutching her daughter's burning body and weeping uncontrollably, repeatedly urging the palace servants to fetch the imperial physician. The Zhuixia Pavilion was instantly filled with light and chaos.
Survival Handbook Rule #8: Illness and weakness can sometimes be the best camouflage, but also a mirror to reveal the true nature of people. For oneself, it is a rest where one can let down one's guard; for others, it is a test that reveals their true character.
Qiuhe ran all the way to fetch Physician Zhang, who was on duty at the Imperial Hospital. After taking her pulse, Physician Zhang stroked his beard and pondered, "Princess Ninth, this is due to cold penetrating deep into your lungs and internal organs, coupled with excessive thinking, causing your heart fire to stagnate, leading to the invasion of external evils with great force. You need to calm your mind and recuperate, and absolutely avoid further mental strain and harming your heart." As he spoke, he prescribed a formula to dispel wind and cold and clear the heart fire.
The medicine was prepared and brought over, but Si Mianmian was too drowsy to swallow, and most of the medicine dripped down her chin. Consort Wen was frantic. She personally took the bowl of medicine and patiently fed her spoonful by spoonful, gently coaxing her as if caring for a toddler. In her hazy state, Si Mianmian felt that familiar and warm embrace, and felt the cool, genuine tears falling on her forehead, gently touching the softest part of her heart. In this strange, deep palace, Consort Wen's unconditional maternal love was the only warm haven she could find without needing to scheme against.
She simply let herself indulge in the brief vulnerability brought on by this illness, no longer forcing herself to stay awake, letting her consciousness drift between drowsiness and lucidity.
The news of the Ninth Princess's serious illness was like a pebble thrown into the seemingly calm lake of the inner palace, stirring up ripples.
The first to react was Princess Si Yunjin, who had only recently begun to change her opinion of Si Mianmian. After hearing the news, she remained silent for a moment, then instructed her personal maid to send over two top-quality old ginseng roots and some precious calming spices. Although her tone remained calm, she added an extra instruction: "Tell Ninth Sister to take good care of herself and not to overthink things. Once she recovers, I will invite her over for tea."
This concern from the eldest princess was of great significance, making the palace servants, who were used to treating people differently based on their status, even more respectful towards Zhuixia Pavilion.
Immediately afterward, the Sixth Prince, Si Yujin, also sent his trusted eunuch with a scroll of calming scriptures and several rare medicinal herbs. The eunuch relayed, "His Highness said that the Ninth Princess should focus on recuperating and that the matter of the scriptures is not urgent. His Highness also instructed me to convey that recovery from illness is gradual and slow, so the Princess should not be too worried." His words were still concise, but they carried a subtle warmth that was more pronounced than usual. Si Mianmian, listening to Qiu He's relay from her sickbed, felt a warmth in her heart. This Sixth Brother, it seemed, was not entirely cold-hearted after all.
The most surprising one was the Third Prince, Si Jingjin.
He was discussing matters with the emperor in the imperial study when he heard a young eunuch whisper that the Ninth Princess had suddenly developed a high fever and was in critical condition. His hand holding the teacup paused almost imperceptibly. His expression remained cold and stern, and he did not ask any further questions, only giving a faint "hmm," as if he did not care at all.
However, less than half an hour later, the cold-faced, god-like commander of the Third Prince's personal guards personally led two men dressed as military doctors to Zhuixia Pavilion. He bowed to Consort Wen and said in a stiff voice, "Your Highness, His Highness has heard that the Ninth Princess is unwell and has specially dispatched his military medical officers. They are skilled in treating cold-related illnesses and external injuries and may be able to assist the imperial physicians in their diagnosis and treatment."
This scene left Consort Wen somewhat bewildered, and she quickly thanked the doctor for making the arrangements. The military doctor's skills were indeed exceptional; after acupuncture and medication, Si Mianmian's high fever gradually subsided, and her breathing became much more stable.
Even more astonishingly, the next morning, just as dawn was breaking, the Third Prince, Si Jingjin, personally appeared outside the gate of Zhuixia Pavilion. He was still dressed in a black casual robe, his posture upright, his face cold and hard. Only when Consort Wen came out to greet him did he speak somewhat stiffly: "Your subject was passing by and stopped by to see if Ninth Sister is feeling any better?"
He didn't go inside, but stood in the courtyard, glancing towards the inner room through the window. At that moment, Si Mianmian had just woken up and was being helped by Qiu He to drink her medicine. Through the crack in the window, she happened to see her brother's profile, which looked like a sculpture in the morning light. He stood there for no more than the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, leaving behind the words, "If you need anything, have the palace servants fetch it from my residence," before turning and striding away, as if it really was just "on the way."
But Zhuixia Pavilion is located in a remote area, so how could it be on the way? Si Mianmian held the medicine bowl, watching the figure quickly disappear into the morning mist, her heart filled with mixed feelings. This "cold-faced Yama" brother's way of caring for people is truly...unique.
Survival Handbook Note: A silent act of protection is often more valuable than sweet words.
Even Xuan Jing, the hostage prince of Yan Dynasty whom he had only met once, somehow learned of the news and secretly sent a box of calming incense pills with a delicate medicinal fragrance, along with a plain note with only one line of elegant handwriting: "Hearing that the princess is unwell, I specially present Yan Dynasty calming incense, hoping it will help her sleep peacefully. Respectfully presented by Xuan Jing."
The gift wasn't expensive, but it was just right, expressing concern without being excessive, befitting his status as a hostage. Si Mianmian placed the fragrant pill beside her pillow; its cool scent did indeed clear her drowsy mind somewhat, and also made her even more curious about this unfathomable "handsome brother."
Of course, it wasn't all well-intentioned. When Consort Li heard that Si Mianmian was seriously ill, she only said indifferently to the Empress during her greetings, "Ninth Miss's health is too weak. It's really hard on Consort Wen." The Seventh Princess, Si Yunshang, was even more gloating, mocking in her own palace, "It would be better if she died of illness, so she wouldn't be an eyesore!"
These rumors, naturally, also reached Si Mianmian's ears through Qiu He and other palace maids who were secretly currying favor with Consort Wen. She simply smiled faintly, unconcerned. The enemy's malice only proved that her existence was no longer insignificant.
This illness, like a touchstone, clearly reveals within the inner palace which are potential acts of kindness and assistance, and which are acts of malice and enemies that require vigilance.
Illness comes like a landslide, but recovery is slow and gradual. Under the meticulous care of Consort Wen and Qiu He, Si Mianmian's health gradually improved. When she was finally able to sit up on her own, leaning against the soft pillows, and looking at the bright sunshine outside the window, she felt as if she had undergone a transformation.
She was still that innocent, naive girl at max level, but deep down, something seemed to have become more resilient and clearer.
A reminder from the survival manual: Every seemingly vulnerable moment can be an opportunity to accumulate strength and gain a clearer understanding of the situation. The key is how you utilize this "vulnerability."
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