A thousand years later…
***Ming Mansion***
~Residence of Ming family~
The heavy wooden doors of Cui Hall stood firmly closed, the evening light casting long shadows across the polished stone courtyard. A'bao stood at the entrance with Yu'er beside her, both maids dressed in simple servant robes, their postures straight despite the anxiety churning in their chests.
A servant from Ziran Hall — the Left Chancellor's personal residence — approached with purposeful steps. "The Left Chancellor summons the Fourth Miss. He wishes to speak with her at once."
A'bao kept her expression carefully neutral, her voice steady and composed. "The Fourth Miss is suffering from severe bellyache due to her monthly blood flow and cannot leave her chambers at present."
The servant paused, studying her for a moment. A'bao's heart pounded fiercely against her ribs, but her face remained a mask of calm concern. She prayed the explanation would be convincing enough to send him away without further questions.
"Oh. Very well," the servant replied at last. "I shall report back to the Left Chancellor immediately." He turned and strode swiftly toward Ziran Hall, his footsteps echoing in the quiet courtyard.
The moment he disappeared around the corner, A'bao released a long, trembling breath. Relief washed over her, but it was fleeting. She knew this was only a temporary reprieve. The Left Chancellor would not be satisfied with a single report; he would summon his daughter again soon. She could only hope the Fourth Miss would return before then.
"Yu'er?" she whispered, turning to the younger maid beside her.
"Mm?" Yu'er tilted her head slightly, keeping her voice low so it would not carry.
"Bring me a bowl of warm water and a small towel," A'bao instructed, her eyes darting around the courtyard to ensure no other servants lingered nearby.
"For what purpose?" Yu'er frowned, confusion flickering across her face.
"If we are to maintain the pretense that the Fourth Miss is on her monthly courses, we must make the lie appear real," A'bao explained softly.
"Oh… okay." Yu'er nodded several times and hurried off toward the kitchen, her steps quick with nervous energy.
While Yu'er was gone, A'bao slipped quietly into Cui Hall — the Fourth Miss's private chambers. The room was dimly lit by a single marked candle burning in its stand near the corner. Its flame flickered steadily, marking the slow passage of time. So much time had already passed. Worry gnawed at A'bao's insides like a persistent ache. Had some misfortune delayed the Fourth Miss? She bit her lower lip, forcing herself to remain still rather than pace anxiously. After a moment, she stepped back outside and took up her post at the entrance, refusing to let her growing fear show in her movements.
"A'bao?" Yu'er's voice called softly from the corridor as she approached, carrying a ceramic bowl half-filled with warm water and a small towel draped over her shoulder.
"Quickly, come," A'bao beckoned, extending her hand.
Yu'er handed over the bowl. A'bao opened the chamber door just enough for them to slip inside, then gestured for Yu'er to close it gently behind them. The faint scent of medicinal herbs and lingering incense from earlier in the day hung in the air, mixing with the warm steam rising from the bowl.
A'bao set the bowl on the bedside table and reached for the towel. Yu'er stared at her, still puzzled.
"What is it?" Yu'er whispered.
A'bao could hardly blame her confusion. Yu'er had only served the Fourth Miss for barely two months and was still learning the delicate balance of loyalty and deception. A'bao, on the other hand, had grown up alongside Xuanling. Her own mother had served the Left Chancellor's late wife and retired when the Fourth Miss turned sixteen, but A'bao had chosen to remain. For two years now, she had helped cover for the Fourth Miss's frequent nighttime excursions. She had learned to stay calm, think clearly, and act decisively when danger loomed. Yu'er, by contrast, was still green — beads of nervous sweat already glistened on her forehead despite the cool evening air.
"The towel, Yu'er," A'bao sighed gently.
"Oh, right." Yu'er quickly handed it over.
A'bao crouched beside the bowl, soaking the towel in the warm water before wringing it out with careful, practiced motions. She folded it neatly and placed it on the bed, then drew the silk sheets over it to hide the dampness.
"Will that suffice?" Yu'er asked hopefully, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Not entirely," A'bao replied softly. "This is merely to warm the bed, as if the Fourth Miss needs the heat to ease her cramps. We must prepare for whatever comes next."
She rose, carrying the bowl to a small table on the opposite side of the room. Reaching up, she removed a slender hairpin from her own hair and examined its sharp, pointed tip in the dim candlelight. Yu'er watched in uncertain silence, trusting but clearly uneasy.
"Just right…" A'bao murmured. Without hesitation, she removed the right shoe from her foot, peeled off her sock, and positioned the hairpin above the sole. With a swift, controlled motion, she pierced the tender skin.
"A'bao?!" Yu'er gasped, her eyes widening in shock.
"It's alright, Yu'er," A'bao soothed, her voice remaining steady despite the sharp sting. She dipped her injured foot into the warm water, watching as the liquid slowly took on a faint reddish tint. Once satisfied with the color, she withdrew her foot, tore a clean strip from the hem of her inner skirt, and bound the small wound tightly. She replaced her sock and shoe, then set her foot gently back on the floor, masking any discomfort with practiced composure.
"Are you certain you're alright?" Yu'er asked, worry creasing her brow.
"I'm fine. This is necessary if our lie is to hold," A'bao said calmly, nodding toward the now blood-tinged water. "If I had cut my palm, the wound would be visible and raise immediate suspicion. This way, the only plausible source of blood is the Fourth Miss's monthly courses."
She set the bowl down once more. "Now we wait for what comes next. I only hope it is the Fourth Miss's return, not the Left Chancellor himself."
"Sit down," Yu'er urged gently. "Your foot will hurt more if you stand for long."
Before A'bao could settle onto the edge of the bed, a familiar voice echoed from the courtyard outside, sharp and commanding.
"Ling'er!?"
Their hearts jolted anew. The Left Chancellor's call cut through the quiet evening like a blade.
"Quick, take the bowl!" A'bao commanded in a low, urgent whisper. Yu'er snatched it up, clutching the warm ceramic tightly as they hurried to compose themselves at the entrance.
A'bao caught the raw anxiety etched across Yu'er's face and warned firmly, "No matter what happens, do not lift your head or utter a single word."
Yu'er nodded quickly, grateful to remain silent with her eyes lowered.
"Ling'er?!" The call came again, closer now. The Left Chancellor was only steps away from Cui Hall.
A'bao drew a steadying breath, opened the door, and stepped aside so Yu'er could exit first. She followed, closing the heavy door softly behind them.
"Ling'er?!" The Left Chancellor stood mere paces from the entrance, his brow furrowed deeply, his robes immaculate despite the late hour. His presence filled the courtyard with unmistakable authority.
"My lord," both maids bowed deeply, lowering themselves until their foreheads nearly touched the ground.
"Where is Ling'er?" His tone was calm, yet edged with clear unease. He stood so close that his daughter should have been able to hear him plainly from within the chambers. Yu'er's fingers twitched nervously around the bowl.
A'bao spoke swiftly before the silence could stretch too long. "The Fourth Miss is inside, my lord." She bowed again. "Aiya! Yu'er, quickly change the water — the Fourth Miss awaits it."
Yu'er moved to obey, but the Left Chancellor's sharp gaze pinned her in place.
"Is the bowl so heavy that it makes you fidget so?" he asked, scrutinizing every small movement with piercing eyes.
Yu'er froze, words failing her completely.
"Yu'er has always been somewhat clumsy, my lord," A'bao interjected hastily, her voice respectful yet firm. "Please do not take offense."
"Xuyue!" the Left Chancellor called, summoning one of his personal servants who appeared almost instantly.
"Yes, my lord," Xuyue bowed low, awaiting orders.
"Relieve the maid of the bowl's burden and dispose of the water yourself."
"No, my lord!" A'bao protested at once, dropping into a full kowtow. "The water is stained with the Fourth Miss's blood — it would be improper for a man to behold it."
"The water is stained?" The Left Chancellor's eyes narrowed in surprise, his gaze shifting between the maids and the bowl.
"Yes, my lord," A'bao affirmed, rising slowly to her feet while keeping her posture submissive.
"Xuyue," he commanded again, a new resolve hardening his voice. "Go to Yandan Hall and bring Concubine Yun here at once."
At the mention of Concubine Yun, A'bao's heart sank like a stone in deep water. The Fourth Miss and Concubine Yun had been bitter rivals for years. If Concubine Yun entered these chambers, their carefully constructed deception would almost certainly unravel. The Left Chancellor would never have come in person — or sent multiple servants — if he truly believed his daughter was simply unwell. But by summoning Concubine Yun — the only maternal figure Xuanling had known since her own mother's passing — he was granting her a freedom and authority few others possessed in the Ming mansion.
There would be no stopping Concubine Yun now from exposing their lie.
Just then, a soft, deceptively sweet voice drifted from the corridor.
"My lord?"