Chapter 16: Though Seemingly Unintentional, Yet Full of Intention

Summer clothes were always thin, and in no time at all, a large patch of blood had already blossomed across Han Chu’s left shoulder, the crimson hue against her porcelain skin making her seem even more translucent, a beauty that took one’s breath away.

Perhaps it was because Ming Ying had tormented her so much in the previous two months that Han Chu didn’t find the pain in her shoulder unbearable, nor did she notice the blood seeping from the back of her shoulder. She returned to the study in the East Court just like that, and, lying across a small desk in the side hall, she dozed off.

She was awakened by a faint sensation of pain and itching. The slightest movement brought a coquettish warning from behind, “Don’t move!”

It was Danxin’s voice.

Han Chu had to maintain her posture, lying across the desk, feeling the ointment sting and itch unbearably on her shoulder.

“You got yourself hurt and didn’t utter a word? Even if you cannot speak, don’t you feel pain? Why pretend to be strong?” Danxin scolded from behind, her tone carrying frustration, concern, and a hint of gentleness.

Han Chu didn’t turn to see her face, but she could imagine that Danxin’s words were harsher than her heart. Thinking so, Han Chu couldn’t help but press her lips into a smile, but the movement tugged at her wound.

“Still smiling! You torment yourself and make your master worry as well—are you pleased?” Danxin’s voice rose. “Do you know a broken jade hairpin was lodged in your shoulder? It was almost impossible to pull out.”

Was it that serious? She had only felt a dull ache in her shoulder. Han Chu turned her head slightly, forming the words with her mouth: “Thank you.”

By then, Danxin had finished applying the medicine and lifted the thin gauze covering Han Chu, dressing her properly again. “Thank me for what? I wasn’t the one who pulled out the hairpin. You should go thank the master!”

It was Young Master Yun who had pulled out the hairpin! Han Chu was instantly mortified. The wound was toward the back of her left shoulder—didn’t that mean Young Master Yun had seen her bare shoulder? He would have had to untie the straps at her neck as well!

She hadn’t thought much of it until now, but as soon as the idea crossed her mind, even the tips of her ears burned red with embarrassment.

Seeing her reaction, Danxin snorted lightly. “What are you blushing for? The master has treated so many; a healer cannot afford to mind the differences between men and women.”

Han Chu was abashed but also somewhat moved.

Danxin, recalling something, added, “You slept deeply while the hairpin was being removed. The master was afraid you’d wake in pain, so he applied a numbing powder to the wound. Be careful; once the medicine wears off, it will hurt terribly.”

No wonder she’d slept so deeply and hadn’t noticed anyone treating her wound. Han Chu was even more touched and gave Danxin a bow of thanks.

Danxin was never one to be moved by force, but seeing Han Chu so docile, her anger mostly dissipated. Pointing at the bloodstains on Han Chu’s clothing, she said, “Your clothes are stained with blood—it’s unlucky. Go change at once.”

Han Chu nodded quickly, but then remembered she only had one change of clothes, which she had just washed before coming to the East Court and hadn’t brought with her.

Danxin noticed her awkwardness and recalled that Han Chu hadn’t carried a bundle when they met that morning. She sighed, “You’re someone sent by the young marquis, yet he couldn’t even spare you an extra set of clothes!”

Then, tilting her head thoughtfully, she added, “But the young marquis probably never thinks of these details. It must be Chacha, that troublemaker, deliberately withholding things from you!” She sized Han Chu up and down. “We’re about the same size; you can wear mine for now.”

As she spoke, Danxin started toward the side hall of the study, but after a few steps, saw Han Chu still standing motionless. Exasperated, she called, “Aren’t you coming with me to find clothes? Or do you want me to fetch them and help you change myself?”

Han Chu smiled, pressed her lips together, and hurried to follow.

*****

From that day forward, Han Chu settled into the East Court under the name “Chu Xu.” Perhaps because of the mishap on the first day, Yun Ci never summoned her to the study for calligraphy service again.

On the third day, the steward Yun Zhong and Qian Yun left, and Han Chu only learned of it after the fact.

Her daily duties were not burdensome—one might even call them leisurely. Danxin, relaying Yun Ci’s instructions, told her she was to serve tea and oversee the meals. But the kitchen had its own staff, so Han Chu had little to do.

Only each morning did she have to gather a measure of dew from the flowerbeds, to boil water and prepare medicine for Yun Ci.

It was then that Han Chu realized just how simple Yun Ci’s life was—no grand displays, no array of servants, entirely unlike the sons of nobility she had known.

Only the maid Danxin attended him closely;

The cleaning of the courtyard was handled by the guard Zhuying;

His clothing and daily needs were arranged by Shen Yu, who instructed Chacha to deliver everything herself to the East Court.

Han Chu seemed to be the most idle person in the East Court. Ostensibly a maid, she felt more like a guest. When her tasks were done, she simply stayed in her own room, drinking medicine, practicing calligraphy, and passing the time.

Such days slipped by swiftly, and counting the days, Han Chu realized she had been at the East Court for more than ten days. In all that time, she hadn’t seen Yun Ci again, let alone Shen Yu.

She very much wanted to thank Yun Ci for tending to her wounded shoulder, but whenever she recalled how he had removed the hairpin, embarrassment kept her silent. Thus the matter remained unresolved for want of an opportunity.

One afternoon, Danxin, finding herself free, came to Han Chu’s room to change her dressing. “The master’s medicine is truly miraculous—your wound is almost healed already,” Danxin remarked as she worked.

Han Chu nodded lightly in agreement.

As Danxin’s fingers brushed Han Chu’s exposed shoulder, she noted the coolness of her skin and glanced out the window with a sigh. “Summer is already over so soon.”

Yet, in Nanxi, the seasons were like spring year-round—even in autumn, there was no real chill.

Danxin mused aloud, “Time to make autumn clothes.” She carefully tied the straps of Han Chu’s undergarment, straightened her collar, and said, “Since it’s the young marquis’s purse paying, we should take the opportunity to order some fine pieces.”

She smiled and continued, “Especially you. In three months we’ll return to Fangzhou, but you’ll remain with the young marquis. You should stock up on good food and clothes now, so Chacha can’t make things hard for you later.”

Han Chu found this amusing and quickly wrote on paper, “I don’t need anything.”

“How could you not?” Danxin arched a delicate brow at Han Chu. “What girl doesn’t like powder, fine food, and nice clothes? Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it. The young marquis won’t begrudge a few coins!”

As she was a year older than Han Chu, Danxin called herself “elder sister.” “Here’s what we’ll do—I’ll ask for two of everything: powders, fabrics, you name it. When they arrive, you get to pick first!”

Han Chu’s smile grew more radiant; she shook her head, wrote again, “Thank you, sister, but I don’t need anything.”

Danxin saw her refuse twice and gave her a reproachful look. “You’re hopeless! With your temperament, no wonder Chacha bullies you!”

“How do you know Chacha bullies me?” Han Chu wrote, surprised. She had never spoken of her past in the West Court; how did Danxin know?

Danxin glanced at Han Chu and huffed, “Isn’t it obvious? She always picks on the soft ones! I can’t stand her—no wonder, given where she comes from. A real troublemaker.”

She looked at Han Chu again, and seeing her expression darken, thought she’d touched a sore spot. Danxin softened, “Don’t worry, Chu Xu—if she dares to bully you again, I’ll report it to the young marquis and make her pay.”

But Han Chu wrote quietly, “Are all those from such places troublemakers?” and looked at Danxin, her gaze grave.

Danxin grew awkward, pursing her lips. “Not always. Look at the storybooks—so many famed beauties came from such places. But Chacha definitely is a troublemaker!”

At this, Han Chu let it go. She knew Danxin was blunt by nature, so she smiled again, her eyes regaining their gentle clarity.

“Your face changes faster than turning a page!” Danxin muttered, then rose to her feet. “It’s late. I have to attend to the master.”

Han Chu also stood, ready to see her out.

Danxin glanced at the messy desk, gathered the used gauze and Han Chu’s writing paper, and, half-jokingly, said, “I really am too used to being a servant—I can’t stand a cluttered table.”

With that, she hurried out of the room, and Han Chu walked her to the gate.

Danxin left Han Chu’s courtyard and went straight to Yun Ci’s study. She paused at the door and quietly announced herself before entering.

Yun Ci looked up at her and handed over a prescription. “Starting tomorrow, have Chu Xu take this instead.”

Danxin pursed her lips, tucked the prescription into her sleeve, and, for once, held her tongue.

Yun Ci, pen in hand, glanced at her with a faint smile. “Are you upset? Who has wronged you?”

“No one,” Danxin replied quietly. “It’s just that you treat Chu Xu so well—it makes me jealous.”

Yun Ci’s pen paused in midair. “Oh? Tell me—how am I so good to her?”

Danxin gave a small humph. “She’s only a mute girl here temporarily, yet you gave her a name and prescribed a remedy for her throat. Isn’t that good enough?”

Yun Ci smiled but said nothing.

Danxin continued, “She was wounded by a hairpin, and neither the young marquis nor I noticed, but you did. Isn’t that because you were paying special attention?”

Yun Ci set down his brush, amused.

“You had her serve in the study at first, but these days you haven’t summoned her. Isn’t it because you’re worried her wound isn’t healed and don’t want her grinding ink and aggravating it?”

Hearing this, Yun Ci laughed aloud. “I hadn’t thought so much about it—you’re overthinking more than I am!”

“It’s not overthinking—you’re just too good to her!” Danxin grew more indignant. “If you weren’t known for your indifference to women, I’d think you fancied her!”

Yun Ci was momentarily taken aback, a rare seriousness flashing in his eyes as he looked at Danxin. “Have I not treated you and Qian Yun well?”

“Of course you have. But Qian Yun and I have served you since we were nine—seven years now. Chu Xu has only been here a dozen days. How can it compare?” Danxin replied firmly.

Indeed, it couldn’t compare. Yun Ci fell silent, and after a long pause, resumed writing, not looking up. “If that’s so, then tomorrow, have her return to the West Court.”