Thus Nan Xueyin followed him into the study.
The ink was of fine quality, glossy like lacquer, and far superior to the kind Xiao Mingyu used. Nan Xueyin examined it as Xiao Youlan asked with casual indifference, "Not rolling up your sleeves?"
Nan Xueyin nodded. "I should."
She added two drops of fresh water to the inkstone, held the ink stick in her left hand, rolled up her left sleeve with her right, and began to grind.
After just a few strokes, Nan Xueyin heard Xiao Youlan remind her, "It's spilling over."
Nan Xueyin looked down to see the inkstone brimful of ink, with several drops leaking onto the desk, and quickly stopped. Having never ground ink before, she had not yet mastered the force required.
Xiao Youlan's voice was deep and slow. "You certainly have a lot of strength."
"..."
After all, these were hands accustomed to killing.
Nan Xueyin fell back on her old excuse. "When I was little, I often helped my family with farm work."
Xiao Youlan made no comment on this.
Nan Xueyin put the ink stick down, her fingertips stained with ink, and rubbed them together absentmindedly.
"Can you read?"
Xiao Youlan asked abruptly.
Nan Xueyin suddenly thought of Xiao Mingyu.
He had never required Nan Xueyin to grind ink; he had plenty of waiting maids and concubines to do that.
That day, when Nan Xueyin went to report to him, he listened to what she had to say and offered no comment, merely asking, "Can you write your own name?"
Nan Xueyin actually could, but at the time she felt that avoiding unnecessary trouble was best, so she shook her head.
Xiao Mingyu, however, was quite pleased. "Then come here, and this prince will teach you."
After teaching her how to write her name, Xiao Mingyu had not let go of her hand, saying he wanted to teach her poetry.
*"Holding hands with you, growing old together with you."*
In truth, Nan Xueyin understood the meaning of those lines, but Xiao Mingyu never did.
Coming back to her senses after a brief moment, she replied, "A little."
"Which ones?" Xiao Youlan asked.
Nan Xueyin kept him in suspense instead of answering, and opened her palm. "Your Highness, the brush."
Xiao Youlan picked out a purple-haired writing brush and handed it to her.
Nan Xueyin took it, dipped it in ink, and slowly wrote three characters on the paper.
*"Xiao Youlan."*
When she finished, she beamed with a bright smile, looking just like a child who had done something good and was deliberately fishing for praise. "What this maid can write is none other than Your Highness's given name."
Xiao Youlan was taken aback.
"Whether among the common folk or after entering the palace, this maid has always heard people speak of the Crown Prince, saying Your Highness is upright and steadfast, and accomplished in both scholarship and martial arts. Filled with admiration, this maid secretly learned Your Highness's name."
Pausing as if just remembering something, Nan Xueyin asked in a soft voice, "Does this count as offending Your Highness?"
Xiao Youlan: ...
"You ask only after writing it down—don't you think it's a bit too late?" Xiao Youlan said.
Nan Xueyin blushed with nervousness.
In a rare moment of amusement, a trace of imperceptible laughter actually colored Xiao Youlan's tone. "Let this be the last time."
After that day, Nan Xueyin went to wait on the Crown Prince every day. Grinding ink did not happen often, for the Crown Prince handled many confidential documents, and since he still harbored suspicions about her, he would not always allow her to stay by his side.
Yet helping him get up and dress, as well as serving all three daily meals, remained an unbreakable routine handled entirely by Nan Xueyin.
She observed which dishes he ate most of each day and which he ate least of, deducing that the Crown Prince favored light meals, detested all manner of fish and seafood from rivers and lakes, and preferred chicken, duck, goose, beef, mutton, and pork by comparison.
Yet he likely believed in eating without fuss or pickiness and partaking of everything equally, so he always ate at least a little of everything.
The subordinates failed to notice this, assuming he liked everything, and the kitchen was unaware as well, so every day passed in this ambiguous fashion.
Now, with Nan Xueyin here, not only did she attend to his meals, but she also instructed the kitchen beforehand on what dishes to prepare. Consequently, his daily meals suited the Crown Prince's preferences much better, and he ended up eating a couple of extra bites every day.
Mother Cui came every few days to ask about her progress. Hearing Nan Xueyin say she merely helped him dress and eat, she grew somewhat displeased. "Those are all chores for menial servants! Why are you rushing to do them? The Emperor sent you here to serve His Highness in bed, not at the dinner table! Besides, it's been several days—your monthly period should have ended long ago!"
Nan Xueyin remained calm. "My period has ended, but serving His Highness does not happen that quickly."
Hantao let out a mocking laugh from the side. "I'm afraid His Highness simply has no desire to favor you at all! His Highness regards you as nothing more than a lowly palace maid who serves meals!"
Nan Xueyin raised an eyebrow. "I am a lowly palace maid, but what about you? You can't even wait on His Highness's meals—what kind of palace maid are you?"
Hantao's face stiffened. Glaring viciously at her, she turned to Mother Cui and said, "Mother, Doukou is no better than me! Please give me another chance, I will definitely perform well!"
Mother Cui, however, replied, "You had better stay put! Wasn't losing face last time enough for you?"
Hantao choked back her words for a long time, ultimately unable to say anything more.
The sky grew dim, and dinnertime was approaching.
Just as Nan Xueyin was about to set off, Mother Cui stopped her.
"Several days have passed, and you haven't made the slightest bit of progress. If this continues, it simply won't do."
With a stern face, Mother Cui said, "Tonight, we will let Linglang try her luck."
Nan Xueyin tilted her head; Linglang was already fully dressed and made up.
"Let's go," Mother Cui called out, and the two of them walked away one after the other until they gradually vanished from sight.
Hantao poked her head out from the neighboring room, wearing a playful expression. "Well, you're still being kept in the dark, aren't you? You don't know a thing!"
"What is it?"
"What else could it be? Linglang is Mother Cui's distant niece!"
Nan Xueyin understood instantly.
"Tonight, the Empress Dowager specially had someone send over aphrodisiac wine from the palace. Mother Cui deliberately kept it from you just so her niece could win his favor. That way, the benefits she reaps in the future will be enormous."
Hantao snorted. "As for this Linglang, she doesn't look as good as you or me, yet she has all the luck! Tonight she'll likely attend to him in bed, and for all we know, she might become a Liangdi by tomorrow morning. You and I will both have to wait on her."
-
Xiao Youlan was busy with official business today. When he sat down at the dining table, he still had an unread essay in his hand.
Linglang walked in and bowed. "Your Highness."
Inwardly, she felt somewhat apprehensive, worrying that she might be chased out just like Hantao.
Yet Xiao Youlan did not even lift his eyelids, nor did he speak.
Linglang breathed a sigh of relief and secretly rejoiced. It seemed the Crown Prince did not dote on Doukou alone after all; Hantao had been chased away simply because she lacked ability.
With a smile at the corners of her lips, she stepped forward.
On the table sat the wine bestowed by the Empress Dowager—a bluish-green glazed gourd-shaped ewer. The senior maid had said that the wine inside possessed extremely potent aphrodisiac qualities; after drinking a cup or two, one would lose self-control.
Linglang poured a full cup, held it up with both hands, and extended it toward him. "Your Highness, won't you try this wine first?"
Xiao Youlan did not move.
"This is a gift from the Empress Dowager, after all. Since it's her elder self's kind intent, it wouldn't do to let her down." Linglang softened her tone, and her voice actually sounded quite similar to Doukou's.
Only then did Xiao Youlan put down the essay and shift his gaze over.
The ten slender fingers holding the wine cup were delicate indeed, but they were merely delicate—looking soft and boneless, as if they could be snapped with a little bit of force.
These were fundamentally the hands of a different person.
Xiao Youlan's eyes darkened. Raising his gaze, his eyes lingered on her face for a brief moment before he furrowed his brow. "You are not Doukou."