Just a Wet Nurse, Just a Plaything? Everyone Wept After My Death - Chapter 77
Chapter 77
Life in the Northern Compound was even harder than Shen Yingyue had imagined.
Though it was nominally part of the imperial palace, it was no different from the Cold Palace. The walls were mottled and peeling, drafts slipped through the paper windows, and the air itself reeked of mold and medicinal dregs after years without sunlight.
The Ninth Prince, Xiao Ze, rumored to have “brought death to countless people,” was presently curled up on the enormous carved wooden bed in the inner chamber.
He was already three years old, yet he looked smaller than a child of two.
He was little more than skin and bones, his tiny face as pale as paper, with deep blue-black shadows beneath his eyes.
His prolonged illness had left his body covered in red rashes. He had scratched some of them raw, leaving bloody scabs behind.
“Cough, cough, cough…”
A fit of agonizing coughs came from behind the bed curtains, wrenching at the heart.
Yet the two palace maids stationed outside acted as if they heard nothing. They sat around a brazier cracking sunflower seeds and complaining.
“What rotten luck, getting sent to this wretched place to wait on some doomed little brat. There isn’t even a scrap of profit to be made here.”
“Shh, keep your voice down. I heard the new wet nurse has a strong enough fate to ward off death. Let her go in and serve him. It’ll save us the trouble.”
Carrying the dinner she had just collected, Shen Yingyue stood at the entrance and listened to their spiteful chatter. Without a trace of emotion on her face, she pushed open the door and entered.
The hall was as cold as an ice cellar. There was not even a brazier burning inside.
She walked to the bed and drew back the curtains.
The tiny figure on the bed flinched violently in fright. He stared at her warily with eyes so large they were almost alarming, like a wounded animal.
“Your Highness, it is time to eat.”
Shen Yingyue softened her voice as she opened the food box.
But the moment she saw what was inside, her heart sank.
There was a bowl of coarse rice that had long since gone cold, topped with a few yellowing vegetable leaves. Beside it sat a bowl of meat broth covered by a thick layer of congealed white fat, giving off a rank, gamey stench.
This was a prince’s dinner?
Even a strong man would get sick from eating food this cold, hard, and greasy, let alone an ill child.
“I don’t want it… Take it away…”
Catching the rancid smell, Xiao Ze turned his head away in disgust. His voice was barely stronger than a breath.
“Get out…”
The sight of him, so stubborn yet so pitiful, made Shen Yingyue’s nose sting unexpectedly.
She thought of Nuannuan.
If Nuannuan had not been rescued, if she had ended up in a place like this, would she have suffered just like this child, bullied and ignored, unable to get even a single hot meal?
A sorrow born of shared suffering, along with her maternal instincts, cracked open the heart she had long since frozen shut.
“Please wait a moment, Your Highness.”
Shen Yingyue closed the food box, turned, and walked out.
She did not confront the two maids for shirking their duties. She knew that in this imperial palace, where everyone trampled on those beneath them and fawned over those above, there was no reasoning with anyone unless you had silver.
She returned to the servants’ quarters, shut the door behind her, and undid her hair with trembling hands.
Hidden deep within her mass of black hair was an exceedingly slender silver hairpin.
It was the last valuable thing she owned. Even during the General’s Manor’s darkest days, she had never been able to part with it, because it was a birthday gift from her late father on the year she came of age.
Shen Yingyue gazed at the silver hairpin, gently tracing its engraved patterns with the pad of her thumb.
“To survive.”
She murmured the words under her breath, determination flashing in her eyes.
Fifteen minutes later, at the back door of the Northern Compound’s small kitchen…
“Well, well. This silver’s quite pure.” The young eunuch in charge of meals toyed with the silver hairpin, his greedy gaze fixed on Shen Yingyue. “What do you want for it?”
“Ten catties of Hongluo Charcoal, a small sack of polished rice, a clay stove, and an earthenware pot.” Shen Yingyue pulled her thin robe tighter around herself, her voice calm.
“That’s all?” The young eunuch scoffed. “Fine. At least you know your place. But that little charcoal won’t be enough to heat the underfloor flues.”
“It’ll be enough.”
Carrying everything she had traded for, Shen Yingyue braved the wind and snow back to the inner hall.
Late that night, all was quiet.
The two palace maids assigned to the night watch had long since slipped away to sleep in the warm servants’ quarters.
In a corner of the inner hall, Shen Yingyue set up the small clay stove and lit the Hongluo Charcoal.
The warm orange glow chased away the hall’s bitter chill.
Inside the earthenware pot, pearly white rice simmered in water, filling the air with its mouthwatering fragrance.
The aroma woke Xiao Ze.
He opened his eyes and stared in confusion at the figure bustling nearby.
Firelight played across Shen Yingyue’s face, softening the hard lines around her eyes. For a moment, she bore a faint resemblance to the hazy mother in his memories.
“You’re awake?”
Shen Yingyue ladled some of the thick, velvety rice gruel into a small bowl and gently blew on it until it cooled. Then she sat down beside the bed.
“This is freshly made rice cream. It’s very soothing for the stomach. Try a sip.”
Xiao Ze watched her warily, refusing to open his mouth.
The wet nurses before her had either forced bitter medicine down his throat or cursed him as a bringer of misfortune. No one had ever stayed up this late to make him a steaming bowl of rice gruel.
“Don’t worry. It isn’t poisoned.”
As if she had seen through his thoughts, Shen Yingyue took a sip first. Then she offered the bowl to him with a smile.
“See? It’s sweet.”
Xiao Ze hesitated for a long time, but in the end, he could not resist the aroma of rice. He cautiously leaned forward and took a tentative sip.
Warm and silky, carrying the delicate fragrance of rice, it slid down his throat and into his cold, empty stomach. Warmth instantly spread throughout his body.
His eyes lit up.
Shen Yingyue patiently fed him one spoonful at a time.
By the time the bowl was empty, a hint of color had finally returned to Xiao Ze’s pale face.
“Would you like more?” Shen Yingyue asked softly.
Xiao Ze shook his head, but then reached out with one thin, bony hand and gently caught hold of her sleeve.
“What… is your name?”
His voice remained hoarse, but some of the hostility and wariness from before had faded.
“I am Shen Yingyue.”
Shen Yingyue took his icy hand in hers, tucked it beneath the warm covers, and carefully pulled the blankets snug around him.
“Go to sleep, Your Highness.
“I won’t leave tonight. I’ll stay right here with you.”
Xiao Ze looked at her and slowly closed his eyes in the warm firelight.
For the first time in his life, he slept in peace.
Shen Yingyue sat beside the charcoal brazier, listening to the wind and snow outside as she watched the sleeping child.
She knew she had secured her first move within the depths of the imperial palace.
This child would be her shield. He would also be the first blade she wielded in her revenge against the imperial power seated so far above her.
