Chapter 10: Second Wear

Wei Tingchun wasn’t panicked at first. Seeing the teapot placed on the ground, she thought Xue Ying might have been too embarrassed and had gone to relieve himself somewhere in the back hall.

So, she grabbed a small stick and tapped around to look for Xue Ying, making noise before opening her eyes to check—quite considerate, really.

But soon, Wei Tingchun couldn’t afford to be considerate anymore.

Because she searched the entire front and back courtyards, nearly turning the entire Chan Wu Courtyard upside down, even checking inside two broken large water vats.

No one.

Xue Ying had run away!

Ahhhhhhh!

Standing in the snow-covered courtyard, Wei Tingchun’s entire state could be summed up in one word—stunned.

She had never expected that the little sweetheart, who wouldn’t even remove the cloth covering his face, who reacted like a startled kitten at the slightest touch, who shyly told her he needed to relieve himself—would trick her and run away!

Shock, complexity, overwhelming panic!

Wei Tingchun couldn’t hold back and shouted, “Xue Ying! Xue Ying!”

“Eleventh Prince!”

“Oh, my little ancestor…”

“What am I supposed to do if you’re gone?!”

This vast imperial palace—the last time she wandered around with Chunxi was ten years ago!

Wei Tingchun didn’t have a photographic memory. She had long forgotten the layout.

And though the Cold Palace was only separated from the rear palace by a few guards, a Cold Palace Convict Slave couldn’t cross the Hanging Flower Gate that led to the Criminals Tribunal.

Xue Ying could pass through. Even if the Eleventh Prince looked disheveled and wretched, he was still a master—one who would be escorted back if discovered by the guards.

All he had to do was run out from here, find any guard, and he’d be free.

Dazed, Wei Tingchun forced her sore legs, exhausted from searching, out of the Chan Wu Courtyard and ran back and forth along the shared corridors of several courtyards.

In the dead of winter, no one stood guard at the Cold Palace.

Not even a ghost in sight.

Wei Tingchun ran until she was drenched in sweat, her stomach aching fiercely. She clutched her belly, frowning as she endured the pain, but couldn’t stop herself from dry heaving.

It was pure agony.

Ever since transmigrating, she had often suffered stomach pains. Wei Tingchun had been asking the system to block the pain during plot progression.

Though she had already gleaned from Cuiyun and the others that her swollen belly probably wasn’t a pregnancy.

Because if it really were a pregnancy, she’d most likely be carrying Nezha—since her belly had been growing not for a month or two, but for several years.

Wei Tingchun had guessed that this belly was probably an illness.

She didn’t care. She was already a dying person anyway. As long as she followed the plan and completed the plot quickly, it would be fine.

She thought that after tonight, everything would be back on track.

Even if this world had many irregularities, at least Xue Ying wouldn’t have to suffer from illness.

But this little brat, acting so obedient, had slipped away in the blink of an eye!

After dry heaving, the pain in her stomach became unbearable, so she had the system block it again.

Blocking pain cost points—a lot of them.

Perfectly playing a minor role earned a little over 3,000 points, but dying without pain blocking doubled it to over 6,000, nearly 7,000. That way, she could save up faster to become a protagonist.

Many people in the system space didn’t block pain, since even with OOC penalties, the points earned wouldn’t decrease much.

But Wei Tingchun saw no need—she didn’t want to be the protagonist. She was afraid of pain.  

Extremely afraid.  

Even the slight sting from nail polish remover made her grimace.  

So over the years, the thing she spent the most points on was pain suppression.  

Coming to this world, she had bought a Strength Pill and a Uterus Warming Patch, suppressed pain multiple times, earned zero points, and even lost over a thousand.  

As Wei Tingchun weakly leaned against the corridor on her way back, her mind was in turmoil.  

Xue Ying had run away—her plotline had collapsed!  

Completely collapsed. She hadn’t even retrieved the token from Xue Ying, hadn’t used the Ninth Prince’s gifts to bribe anyone, hadn’t followed her intended plot—how was she supposed to get shot to death by the Imperial Guards’ commander, Chen Yan?!  

But as she walked, with her pain fully suppressed, aside from feeling weak, she no longer felt nauseous.  

Wei Tingchun couldn’t help but chuckle.  

She laughed softly, her expression both delighted and somewhat relieved.  

A kitten who knows to run when suffering—that’s a good thing!  

Much better than those who cling even after being hurt and don’t even know to hide!  

He probably wasn’t lying to her, either. After two days without moving and drinking so much water, how could he not need to relieve himself?  

Maybe he just wasn’t used to doing it anywhere and had gone back to find his “litter box.”  

Wei Tingchun’s mission was ruined, but she walked back cheerfully.  

No need to panic—it wasn’t a big deal, just a minor setback.  

After years of diligence, she had accumulated some room for mistakes.  

At worst, she wouldn’t earn any points in this world. She’d just lose a bit more when she returned. Xue Ying had suffered so much since childhood—he was probably a villain, and villains had plenty of tragic experiences. One more wouldn’t make much difference.  

Wei Tingchun quickly rationalized it and even felt rather pleased and understanding.  

A kitten who knows self-preservation is a good kitten. That way, when she left this world, she wouldn’t have to worry about him.  

By the time Wei Tingchun returned to her room and lay down, dawn was almost breaking.  

She had stayed up two nights in a row and couldn’t hold on any longer—she needed to sleep for a while.  

Now, there was only one problem left: how to get the Imperial Guards’ commander to shoot her with an arrow?  

Aside from this method, Wei Tingchun couldn’t exit the world in any other way.  

Messing up the plot a little in the middle was fine—the world’s consciousness would correct itself.  

But just like an essay needing to circle back to its theme, the ending had to be precise. Otherwise, the plot’s direction would change, and that would be a real problem.  

With this question in mind, Wei Tingchun fell asleep, resting unusually soundly.  

Subconsciously, she believed Cuiyun would soon come to wake her for breakfast.  

And yesterday, she had told the food attendant to summon Chunxi to see her. Later, she’d have a good talk with Chunxi—if reasoning didn’t work, she’d threaten him into sending some decent food to the North Courtyard.  

After all, she had dirt on Chunxi!  

No matter how dire the situation, Wei Tingchun could always sleep without a care. As the saying goes, when faced with trouble, take a nap—waking up usually brings a solution.  

When she finally awoke, the first thing she noticed was that she had kicked off her blanket.  

Wei Tingchun even felt an unfamiliar warmth, wondering if she had dreamt of never leaving the bonfire, still longing for its heat.  

Her residence in the North Courtyard lacked not only charcoal or a brazier but even a warm quilt.  

Could her body be the legendary “fiery constitution”?  

She was fully awake now.  

The room was as warm as spring.

She stared blankly at the Gold Filament Charcoal Brazier on the floor, counting silently in her mind—one, two, three, four, five.  

Five pieces.  

Inside burned crimson charcoal, each piece uniform in size, emitting no odor—only warmth.  

Having transmigrated through numerous ancient worlds, Wei Tingchun knew such refined, smokeless charcoal was reserved for the most noble and privileged.  

Surely Cuiyun hadn’t gone mad from the cold and started burning beams from the roof?  

Wei Tingchun closed her eyes, convinced she was still trapped in a dream.  

Just as she struggled to “wake up,” a high-pitched yet oddly soft voice spoke not far from her.  

“Ah, Madam, slept well, have we?”  

“This humble servant has been waiting for quite some time. Now that you’re awake, please follow me.”  

Wei Tingchun opened her eyes and turned toward the voice.  

There stood a “water vat” in an indigo-blue robe.  

The man had smooth, fair skin, no beard, and wore a gauze cap. A horsetail whisk rested in his grip, and the intricate embroidery on his chest marked him as a high-ranking eunuch of considerable status.  

Just like the two men sent by the Ninth Prince yesterday.  

Wei Tingchun sat up warily, squinting at the eunuch.  

Though the room was dim—its windows sealed with makeshift insulation—the daylight outside was bright enough to see clearly.  

“Madam, come along now. There’s nothing decent to eat in this courtyard, and after sleeping half the day, you must be hungry.”  

The old eunuch’s overly solicitous tone only deepened her unease. Uncertain of the situation, she remained silent and still, observing.  

When she didn’t move, the eunuch stepped out of the shadows by the window, flicking his whisk.  

“Still not fully awake, are we?”  

Wei Tingchun froze the moment she met his narrow, triangular eyes. After a long stare, she blurted in shock, “Ruyi?!”  

The old eunuch jumped at her sudden outburst, clutching his chest.  

“Good heavens! You frightened this old servant half to death! My heart can’t take such a shout at my age.”  

Wei Tingchun nearly called him “godfather” out of habit.  

She remembered Ruyi fondly because, even back then, he’d been shaped like a barrel—yet bore the delicate name of a young girl.  

A decade later, he hadn’t changed much, save for the silver threading his brows and temples.  

“Attendants! Come assist Madam at once.”  

Wei Tingchun stayed seated as two maids entered—one being Cuiyun, who, though visibly bewildered, kept obediently quiet, likely after being intimidated.  

The shock of seeing an old acquaintance, combined with waking to such a bizarre scene, had briefly disoriented her.  

Regaining composure, she smiled. “To what do I owe the pleasure of Eunuch Ruyi’s visit? I’ve been stuck in the Cold Palace so long, I’ve lost track of your esteemed promotions. Whose household do you oversee now?”  

Ruyi flicked his whisk again, as if the air in the room offended him. His plump fingers brushed his nose, his triangular eyes nearly swallowed by fleshy cheeks.  

“The Eleventh Prince sent this old servant to escort Madam to a life of comfort.”  

Wei Tingchun: “…”  

…Little kitten?  

What on earth was the kitten up to?

In a flash of realization, Wei Tingchun thought, well, he must have recognized her.

Had he secretly peeked under the blindfold? She hadn’t uttered a single word.

Moreover, Wei Tingchun was puzzled—even if Xue Ying had noticed her “sudden conscience” and that she had taken care of him, it still wouldn’t warrant summoning her for a life of luxury.

After all, Wei Tingchun hadn’t forgotten that this body she now inhabited had once been a trusted confidante of Consort Qing, who had tormented Xue Ying since childhood.

If Xue Ying was summoning her… the most likely reason was to personally exact revenge.

Cuiyun and the others swiftly prepared Wei Tingchun for departure, though there wasn’t much to prepare—the Cold Palace lacked even basic toiletries.

Wei Tingchun didn’t bother asking any more questions. At this point, she had no choice but to follow along.

Her priority was still to die as soon as possible. Leaving the Cold Palace would make it easier to approach the Imperial Guards commander.

Wei Tingchun followed Eunuch Ruyi out the door, trailed by two other young eunuchs.

Cuiyun and the others craned their necks to watch, not daring to say a word.

Wei Tingchun paused at the threshold, thinking that since she’d known Cuiyun and the others for a while, she might as well treat them to a decent meal.

So she stopped Eunuch Ruyi and said, “Please wait a moment, Gonggong. I had arranged to meet Chunxi Gonggong today. The food in the North Courtyard is truly inedible. Though we’re all convict slaves, one must stay alive to atone for their sins, no?”

“I’ll first speak with Chunxi Gonggong—”

“Madam is about to enjoy a life of luxury, yet still thinks of these lowly girls. How touching. No wonder the Eleventh Prince holds you in such high regard.”

Eunuch Ruyi’s tone was dripping with sarcasm.

After all, he knew the original owner of Wei Tingchun’s body—hardly a kind soul.

Wei Tingchun’s slight personality changes since transmigrating weren’t out of character. She wasn’t a prominent figure, and after years in the Cold Palace, mood swings were hardly unusual.

Wei Tingchun forced a smile.

Eunuch Ruyi found her indifference to his mockery dull and cleared his throat. “Rest assured, Madam, I’ll send someone to fetch Chunxi.”

Wei Tingchun immediately brightened. “Then I’ll trouble you, Gonggong.”

Achieving even a small goal pleased her. She even descended the steps to offer Eunuch Ruyi a steadying hand, saying gently, “The snow hasn’t been cleared here—mind your step, Gonggong.”

Eunuch Ruyi shot her a sidelong glance, clearly suspicious of her sudden kindness.

Wei Tingchun ignored it and followed him through winding corridors, leaving the Cold Palace behind.

Along the way, many peeked out curiously. Some disgraced consorts, barely clinging to dignity in tattered sleeves, watched with envy and resentment.

After all, it was rare for anyone to be summoned out of the Cold Palace—let alone an old maidservant instead of a fallen consort.

After nearly half an hour of navigating countless gates and turns, they finally left the rear palace and arrived at the Imperial Son Courtyard.

Upon entering, several maids rushed forward to assist Wei Tingchun inside, where she was promptly bathed and groomed.

Eunuch Ruyi personally brought a bowl of medicine to Wei Tingchun.

In his peculiar, mocking tone, he said, “This medicine was personally ordered by the Eleventh Prince. He insisted that this old servant watch as you drink every last drop.”

“Drink up.”

Eunuch Ruyi couldn’t understand why the Eleventh Prince had suddenly remembered this Cold Palace Convict Slave. The prince had disappeared for two days and returned in a disheveled, miserable state without saying a word, only instructing him to fetch someone from the Cold Palace.

Eunuch Ruyi looked down on Wei Tingchun—or more precisely, the body Wei Tingchun currently inhabited.

Thus, his tone carried the implication: “Drink up. Drink and be done with it.”

Wei Tingchun wasn’t afraid of being tortured. After all, she could block out pain, and letting the little kitten torment her a bit to alleviate childhood trauma was fine.

But she couldn’t be poisoned to death!

She had to be shot to death!