Volume One, Chapter Twelve: How Could She Compare the Fourth Prince to a Dog?

Waiting outside the main hall, Yuanbao had just about to salute when he was startled by Zhao Ye’s expression.

“Fourth Prince, what’s the matter…”

“And Xiangzhu? Has she returned?”

Hearing Zhao Ye inquire about Xiangzhu, Yuanbao felt a slight relief.

“Master, please don’t worry. Miss Xiangzhu has already been settled. Her quarters are right next to Miss Shuangling’s, much more spacious and comfortable than where she stayed before.”

Zhao Ye, who initially intended to head to the back courtyard, changed direction and walked toward the few side rooms behind the right wing of the middle courtyard.

Xiangzhu, having just changed into her inner garments and preparing to blow out the candle and lie down, caught sight of a shadow passing by the window.

She hurriedly put on her outer robe again and tidied her clothes just as a knock came at the door.

Xiangzhu did not open immediately. “Who is it?”

“It’s me, Liangcai,” came the reply.

Relieved to hear it was Liangcai, Xiangzhu quickly tied up her hair and opened the door.

She carefully looked outside, saw that it was indeed only Liangcai, and then stepped aside to let him in.

“What brings you here all of a sudden? Has something happened?”

Liangcai smiled. “I heard you had moved here and thought I’d come to check on you.”

“How’s your injury? Why aren’t you resting properly in bed?”

Though smiling, Liangcai inwardly grumbled about Zhao Ye.

He had a good master indeed—without a word, he had been slapped twice. Even when he was half asleep lying on the bed, Yuanbao had pulled him up, saying that Sister Xiangzhu was worried he couldn’t sleep well because of his injury and that he should come linger by her side for a while.

Liangcai observed that Xiangzhu had been about to sleep but hurriedly got up to tidy herself because of his arrival.

“I heard from Yuanbao that the master appointed you as a first-class palace maid and that starting tomorrow, I’m to learn the rules from you.”

Xiangzhu finally recalled what Zhao Ye had said before leaving, though she hadn’t taken it to heart.

“You should rest and recover first. We’ll talk about that when your injury heals.”

Previously, Shuangyun and Yuanbao had managed the courtyard affairs. She was only standing in for Shuangyun, overseeing the palace maids and eunuchs in the courtyard.

“I’m tough. These two slaps aren’t really…” Liangcai attempted to stretch to reassure Xiangzhu but ended up wincing in pain from his back injury.

“Oh, you,” Xiangzhu chuckled. After some thought, she went to the window, opened a chest, and rummaged through it.

All her belongings were still packed inside, but luckily the wooden box holding the ointments was clearly visible and easy to reach. Xiangzhu quickly found it and took it out.

“Judging by how you look, it’s not too serious. Take this bottle of ointment back with you.”

Liangcai’s eyes lit up. “Thank you, Sister Xiangzhu. You should rest early. I’ll take my leave.”

When Xiangzhu had invited Liangcai in earlier, she hadn’t closed the door, wary of gossip if anyone saw him entering her room.

Now, as Liangcai reached the doorway, he kindly closed the door behind her.

After taking a few steps away, he dared to look at the ointment in his hands and grinned.

This visit was worth it—he had earned Sister Xiangzhu’s concern.

Tucking the ointment safely inside his robe, Liangcai turned down the corridor and suddenly dropped to his knees.

“Your servant greets Fourth Prince.”

Zhao Ye remained silent, extending a hand.

Liangcai was silent, not wanting to interpret Zhao Ye’s meaning.

Zhao Ye’s palm faced upward, his fingers curling in a beckoning gesture.

Liangcai: …

Growing impatient, Zhao Ye reached out and searched around Liangcai’s front, pulling the ointment from his bosom.

“Enough. You may go rest now.”

Having retrieved the ointment, Zhao Ye turned and left.

Liangcai: …

Xiangzhu was roused from sleep, her mind foggy, but her movements quick as she got out of bed and dressed. After rinsing her mouth with a cup of cold tea, she gradually regained clarity.

She swiftly tied her hair into a bun and opened the door to step out.

The sound of crying grew louder.

The courtyard lanterns were already lit. The door to the neighboring room was open; Xiangzhu glanced inside but found it empty. Shuangling had likely gone ahead to the main hall.

Two people were already kneeling inside the hall.

They were Shuangling and Shuangyun.

As Xiangzhu entered, a nauseating stench hit her. She swept her gaze around and pinpointed the source.

It was Shuangyun.

Drawing closer, Xiangzhu saw Shuangyun’s disheveled clothes and filthy body.

She discreetly withdrew her gaze, thinking that the filth on Shuangyun must have come from Zhao Ye’s vomit.

Indeed, Zhao Ye had been sickened and vomited all over Shuangyun. He now sat with a scowl on the soft couch by the inner hall’s window.

The bed reeked of Shuangyun’s scent, and just approaching it made him want to be sick again.

Yuanbao wanted to summon someone to clean up, but given Zhao Ye’s condition, he thought it best to call the imperial physician first.

Usually, Yuanbao served Zhao Ye closely in the study. Household affairs were handled by Shuangling, who was now kneeling outside. Yuanbao was anxious but brightened immediately when he saw Xiangzhu.

“Sister Xiangzhu, hurry in and take a look.”

As Xiangzhu followed Yuanbao inside, a suspicion formed in her mind.

Shuangyun had climbed into bed in the dead of night, hoping to truly become Zhao Ye’s person, but Zhao Ye, unable to hold back his nausea, vomited all over her.

Hearing the name “Xiangzhu,” Zhao Ye’s expression softened slightly as he stared fixedly toward the screen.

Xiangzhu circled around the screen and inadvertently met Zhao Ye’s gaze.

With just one look, Xiangzhu was certain her guess was correct.

She lowered her eyes to avoid his gaze and bowed respectfully.

Yuanbao cautiously spoke, “Your Highness, Shuangling and the others are still kneeling outside.”

Zhao Ye looked at Xiangzhu but said nothing.

Was it her imagination?

She saw the word “wronged” shining in Zhao Ye’s eyes.

Zhao Ye truly felt wronged. Just as he had fallen asleep, he was abruptly awakened, his eyes barely opened, only to be assaulted by a repulsive odor.

Too exhausted to react quickly, he inhaled deeply, and the contents of his chest and stomach churned violently as if turbulent waves clashed and exploded inside him.

Zhao Ye felt his tolerance for Shuangyun had plummeted to its lowest point.

He didn’t care whether Shuangyun was acting under orders or on her own volition; he simply wanted her to disappear from his sight forever.

Yet even though Zhao Ye was nearly losing his sanity from anger, he hadn’t thrown Shuangyun out.

Had it been anyone else, Shuangyun would have been badly beaten.

“Perhaps, your servant should ask them to withdraw for now?” Yuanbao said again, braving the silence since Zhao Ye only stared at Xiangzhu and ignored him.

Yuanbao was hesitant to mention Shuangyun’s name.

Earlier, when Shuangyun knelt outside, filthy and shivering in the cold, he had mentioned it once, and Zhao Ye vomited again.

Only when Xiangzhu entered did Yuanbao muster the courage to bring it up again.

It wasn’t that Yuanbao pitied Shuangyun kneeling outside—it was that with her condition, she should be cleaned up before kneeling; otherwise, the stench would be unbearable.

Zhao Ye stubbornly kept his gaze fixed on Xiangzhu.

The more Xiangzhu looked, the more she sensed a mixture of hurt and grievance in his eyes.

She recalled the small Pekingese dog she had once fed years ago in the garden.

Its snow-white fur was stained with dirt, making it look small, pitiful, and helpless.

Especially those dark, wet eyes staring at her—they were strikingly similar to the look the Fourth Prince now gave her.

Xiangzhu shivered, thinking, “What a sin! How could I compare the Fourth Prince to a dog?”