Just as Nie Qingyue was wondering, she heard a soft rustling sound coming from outside the tightly closed door. She had intentionally locked the door from the inside when she came in, so was someone trying to get in from the outside?
After a moment's thought, Nie Qingyue hid behind the screen. Her heart started racing, and she held her breath. After a long while, there was still no sound from outside the room.
She went over and opened the inner bolt, then pushed the door twice, but it didn't budge.
The door was locked from the outside.
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Chapter 34
The door was locked from the outside.
The first thing Nie Qingyue did after realizing what was happening was to look out the window.
Only one wall in the room had a window, its intricate carvings covered with white paper, and it was quite large. Nie Qingyue carefully pushed the window open, creating a crack. She leaned closer to look; outside was a neat lawn with sparsely planted flowers and trees, and no one was around.
Should we go out now or not? Nie Qingyue hesitated; it wouldn't be fun if even the windows were locked.
She waited quite a while before pushing the door open. If the person who locked the door wanted to trap her inside, they should have had enough time to lock the window. Since they didn't... she steeled herself, moved a stool to the window, and half-climbed, half-stood, jumped out. Brushing the grass clippings off her clothes, Nie Qingyue calmly and quickly walked out of the courtyard where Mo Yue's room was located.
As he returned to the corner, he bumped into a maid in white. The maid staggered as if she was about to fall, and Nie Qingyue reached out to help her without thinking.
The maid grasped her arm to steady her, looked up and whispered, "Thank you, young master." Nie Qingyue nodded indifferently, glanced at her, and hurried back to his room.
When the door opened, Murong was wearing the same clothes as her, with her back turned, pretending to be asleep on the bed.
"Murong, I'm back," Nie Qingyue called softly, but Murong did not respond.
"Could she really be asleep?" Nie Qingyue was both amused and exasperated. She patted her a few times, and Murong finally sat up sleepily. "Xiaoyue, you're back. I don't know why, but I suddenly feel really sleepy." She yawned as she spoke, and as soon as she stepped off the bed, she collapsed back down.
"Murong!" Nie Qingyue hurriedly went over to help her sit down at the table.
Murong waved his hand to indicate that he was alright, closed his eyes, rubbed his temples without making a sound, and tried to stand up by supporting himself on the table, but eventually staggered and sat down.
“Xiao Yue,” her voice calmed down, “it seems she’s been drugged. Go get my medicine box.”
Nie Qingyue placed both hands on the sides of the box and lifted it upwards with force, but the box was surprisingly light. Frowning, she opened the lid. The box, which had been full of medicine and disguise tools, was now empty except for a white porcelain bottle. She handed the bottle to Murong, who frowned, opened the bottle, smelled it, and poured a little into his palm: "It should be the antidote."
Silence fell in the room.
Murong's voice betrayed her exhaustion and weakness: "Xiao Yue, go to the teahouse and wait for Shu Song. I sent him a letter before I came, he should be on his way now."
Nie Qingyue stared at her without moving: "And you? Are you here all alone?"
"How am I supposed to get out of here?"
Nie Qingyue answered very quickly, afraid that she wouldn't be able to convince Murong: "Yan Shu's medicine box contains tools and medicine for disguise. I'll go back and get them now." Just thinking about asking Murong to stay here in her place for the night felt dangerous.
"Xiao Yue, your current identity is just a doctor. How do you explain traveling back and forth so frequently?"
Murong took the medicine and reached for the teapot on the table. The teapot had barely left the table an inch before it trembled and fell back down with Murong's weak hand.
Nie Qingyue was momentarily speechless, and could only take the teapot and lower his eyes to pour tea for her.
One hour later.
The phrase "restless" probably best describes her standing like this.
Nie Qingyue sat in a corner of the teahouse, her lips pursed, her hand gripping the smallest round cup and gently and quickly slamming it onto the table.
The sounds of conversation and ordering dishes mingled together in a blur, refusing to reach her ears. She had lost count of how many times she had looked towards the door and how many times she had stood up and sat down again. Tea drinkers came and went, the dishes on the surrounding tables were changed again and again, and the hot water had been refilled seven or eight times.
Nie Qingyue's expectations sank further and further. Finally, she put down the cup that she had almost cracked, placed a few copper coins on it, got up, and walked out.
As dusk fell, the street vendors hurriedly packed up their wares while complaining.
"The curfew is about to start." "I don't know what happened, it was fine all of a sudden and now there's a curfew. Business has slowed down a lot lately."
"The security situation hasn't been good lately. My son is a constable, and he said that the Thirteenth Prince and several other officials in the city have had their residences burglarized at night these past few days." "Anyway, they can't rob poor people like us. I just hope this curfew ends soon so the night market can open for business."
"That's right, that's right, let's go."
Nie Qingyue pursed her lips and walked quickly past.
She got up early the next morning and carried Yan Shu's medicine chest into the palace. The image of that blood-stained blue robe still lingered in her mind. The robe was hidden under the cabinet and hadn't been folded or washed. She probably wouldn't have found it if she hadn't been searching everywhere for the medicine chest.
Yan Shu was deliberately keeping it from her; she hadn't even noticed when he went out at night or when he returned injured. Nie Qingyue bit her finger, feeling a little deflated, and removed all her makeup. Remembering Shu Song escaping from the Prince's mansion a year ago, covered in blood, and banging on their courtyard door, that ominous feeling resurfaced.
Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.
Who was it? Murong had just changed back into men's clothing and left to continue waiting for Shu Song. Nie Qingyue opened the door with a puzzled look, only to see a plain-looking maid carrying a food box, her face covered with freckles. She seemed familiar, but she frowned and couldn't remember for a moment.
"His Highness has instructed that from today onwards, Qiao'er will be in charge of taking care of Miss Nie's food and clothing," Qiao'er whispered.
The soft voice belonged to the maid who had bumped into Mo Yue outside the garden yesterday when she ran out of her room. Nie Qingyue nodded, feeling a little strange but unable to put her finger on it, and simply stepped aside to let her in.
“Well, when your young lady had that accident…” Nie Qingyue chewed on the end of her chopsticks, trying to find the right words.
"Qiao'er... only started working as a farmhand in the manor two days ago." The gentle expression suggested that it was inconvenient to tell her.
"I see."
Nie Qingyue swallowed her food, abandoning her delusional attempts to investigate. Wasn't it right after Mo Yue's accident two days ago? Oh well, how could the Thirteenth Prince possibly leave someone who speaks carelessly to serve her? She put down her chopsticks and looked at Qiao'er, who stood meekly to the side. Was she serving her or monitoring her?
Three days later, Nie Qingyue finally used the excuse of recovering from her illness to leave the Prince's mansion with Murong.
These past few days, Qiao'er had been by her side almost constantly, and all of Nie Qingyue's and Murong's attempts to gather information had almost failed. Nie Qingyue, wrapped in a thick cotton robe, took one last look at the Prince's mansion. The pale paper lanterns and brocades hadn't been taken down yet, and Qiao'er stood quietly by the lacquered wooden gate, watching her with a calm gaze that made Nie Qingyue feel subtly uneasy.
Murong Luo called her name, and Nie Qingyue turned and boarded the carriage. Before the carriage had even started moving, the crisp sound of horses' hooves came from outside. She lifted a corner of the thick curtain and looked out, where a black steed was approaching from afar.
The man on horseback dismounted, looking travel-worn—it was Chen Li, the steward.
Upon seeing Chen Li, Qiao'er, who was standing by the door, took two steps back and shrank back inside, a stark contrast to the two servants outside who were eagerly welcoming Chen Li and opening the door for his horse. Nie Qingyue was a little puzzled; she vaguely felt that Qiao'er seemed quite... panicked when she saw Chen Li for that instant.
At this moment, Murong Luo finally untangled the reins and sat down in front of the carriage to start the horse. The wheels rolled over the ground with a slight sway, and Nie Qingyue leaned her head against the hard wooden planks of the carriage, recalling the discoveries she had made at the Prince's mansion these past few days.
I checked the pharmacy's ledgers, and they did indeed stop recording entries half a month ago. Whether the supposedly incompatible herbs were used that day is impossible to verify. The servant who was responsible for dispensing the medicine has also been dismissed, and the information obtained through questioning the doctor was of little value.
She sighed and rubbed her frozen face with both hands.
From the moment she moved into the Prince's mansion until now, Mo Yu hasn't come to see her. That innocent yet stubborn little girl must hate them now. She was hoping that Yan Shu's words could change Mo Yue's fate of a political marriage, but now her family tells her that those doses of medicine were meant to take away her beloved sister.
There was no time to overthink it. The carriage circled the long street and turned into the back gate of the government office, which was a bit more remote, before stopping.
Nie Qingyue jumped out of the car, and a refined and unassuming middle-aged man was already standing at the narrow, unassuming back door. Murong Luo walked over and took out a jade pendant. The man looked at it carefully for a moment, then tucked it into his sleeve and put it away before leading them inside.
The sturdy stone door was slowly pulled open a crack after the key was turned, and the man turned around: "Go in alone."
Nie Qingyue looked at Murong, who patted her shoulder reassuringly: "I'll wait for you here." The man didn't wait long and went inside first.
Behind the door, a deep, dark stone staircase winds downwards, with only a few oil lamps flickering on the stone walls on both sides. Nie Qingyue followed the person in front of him, and did not see any prison guards along the way, probably because they had been sent away beforehand.
At the end of the stone steps, all that could be seen were simple single rooms separated by iron bolts. In the dim light, people with disheveled hair and dirty faces could not be seen clearly. In the innermost room, there was only one person sitting against the wall.
The clinking of a large bunch of keys was particularly noticeable in the quiet dungeon. The man slowly picked out one and twisted it to remove the iron lock from the latch: "Time is running out."
Before Nie Qingyue could sort out her thoughts, she had already stepped inside. Yan Shu sat down a few steps away against the corner of the wall, wearing only a thin shirt on the cold December day.
For a moment, the small space was completely silent, except for the soft rustling of her shoes as they stepped on the decaying grass.
She only squatted down in front of Yan Shu, hugging her knees, when she was almost stepping on the hem of his clothes that touched the ground. The light streaming in through the high window was not enough for her to see Yan Shu's expression clearly, but his bright black eyes were always clearly reflected in front of her.
Nie Qingyue suddenly breathed a sigh of relief and smiled faintly: "Thank goodness you didn't disappear."
"If there's a third time, I definitely won't wait or look for them again."
"If there's a third time, I definitely won't wait or look for them again."
Yan Shu lowered his eyes, not even having a chance to properly see the face he hadn't seen for so many days, before the other person, having said something utterly unromantic and ambiguous, buried their face in his arms. The dark head bumped against his shoulder and hurt a little, but the little face didn't care how dirty his clothes were, which hadn't been changed for days, and rubbed against his neck haphazardly.
"So heartless." He chuckled softly, but his voice held a hint of tenderness. Her heart softened more than ever before, and she gently patted Nie Qingyue's thin shoulder with her broad hand, trying to calm her slight trembling.
"Hmm, next time just make a rope and tie it to your hand." Her tone was almost fierce, but her trembling hands, which were wrapped around his waist, tightened their grip.
Yan Shu paused in comforting her hand, then tightened his arms around her thin shoulders, not bothering to question the feasibility of her words. After all, some people are just naturally good at ruining the mood.
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Chapter 35
Nie Qingyue went out with a food box as usual that day, but saw a familiar figure flash by at the door.
The man in the dark cloak walked hurriedly; it was Zhao Linwei.
If it weren't for the strong wind blowing up the black veil beneath his straw hat, Nie Qingyue would never have recognized him. The buildings were sparse in the west of the city, with only one ancient temple where incense burned brightly; that guy had never been a truly devout Buddhist. She squinted at the gradually blurring figure, then continued walking in the original direction. Compared to her family's divine physician's basic needs, this drinking buddy, who wasn't exactly a close friend, was definitely more important.
Black bean and catfish stew, fish head stew with Sichuan lovage and angelica, clear beef soup, plus two bowls of perfectly separated white corn rice.
After arranging everything, Nie Qingyue sat cross-legged on the cool dungeon floor covered with a thin layer of straw, holding the empty mahogany food box in her arms, her expression very satisfied.
The supposedly on-the-spot Shu Song always seemed to be on his way, and that poor message had been lying in the teahouse waiter's head for days without ever being uttered. But the person silently eating his meal remained calm and composed, as leisurely and gentle as ever, and she vaguely sensed that Yan Shu actually had a grasp on what the future held.
Ah, I wonder what people are like when they really get anxious and flustered? She tilted her head and imagined for a while before being brought back to her senses by someone who had finished eating: "What are you thinking about?"
"No, what are we eating tomorrow?" Nie Qingyue counted on her fingers, "The mutton was cooked the day before yesterday, and the porridge gets cold very quickly..."
Before he could finish his rambling, Yan Shu said, "Actually, you don't need to come every day."
"Um?"
"I discovered a few days ago that there were some of Prime Minister Nie's men here, and they've been taking good care of her in terms of food and lodging." Yan Shu lowered his head and pulled the food box from her arms, putting away the porcelain bowls and wooden chopsticks for her. "So, how about we rest tomorrow, Madam?"
Husband, wife. Nie Qingyue froze. Ever since returning from Nie Anru's birthday celebration, their forms of address had always been simply "you" or omitted altogether, a subtle acceptance of her awkward and unspoken status. ...So now?
She was still agonizing over the form of address when she unconsciously agreed, completely unaware of Yan Shu's instantly calmed expression after hearing her reply.
On her way back, Nie Qingyue encountered an old man asking for directions.
The old woman gestured unclearly, pointing to the ingot-shaped candles in the wicker basket she was carrying. Nie Qingyue finally understood that she wanted to go to the ancient temple to offer incense. She gestured the general direction, but it was unclear whether the old woman understood. Since Nie Qingyue had nothing else to do that afternoon, she simply led the way.
Few pedestrians were on the old street in the west of the city; most were locals heading to the ancient temple at the end to worship the gods and Buddhas. In the distance, small groups of two or three people could be seen crowding in one direction. "That's it," Nie Qingyue stopped and pointed about ten meters away. The old man nodded and mumbled his thanks.
She turned to leave, but then suddenly thought that since she was already here, she might as well ask for a good luck charm. But as soon as she turned around, she bumped into someone who was walking by in a hurry.