The Girl Who Struggled Through Palace Intrigues to Become the Empress

Chapter 504

The incident of Xiao Jingheng's injury should not be made public, and many of the servants in his household were originally assigned from the palace during his time as a high official, so he could not trust them entirely. Therefore, he took the opportunity of the spring festival to let many of his house servants take a vacation.

There were not many attendants in his household to begin with, and after dismissing them, he found himself even more short-handed in handling many tasks.

I privately felt indebted to him for getting injured while rescuing me, so I went to his residence frequently these days to check on him.

Though it was to check on him, his injury was on his forearm, and it was improper for a man and woman to have close contact. Whenever he changed his dressings, I would respectfully avoid being present.

Yet I could still clearly hear his muffled groans of endurance coming from inside the room.

The wound had to be cleaned and medicated daily, and according to the doctor, the cut was so deep that it nearly exposed the bone. One can imagine how much suffering he had to endure.

However, he never mentioned these things in front of me, but rather worried that I would overthink it, and intentionally avoided such topics whenever we chatted.

Initially, I went to take care of him out of a sense of guilt.

But after spending time together, I gradually found him to be an interesting person.

He would tell me many amusing stories from his experiences in the palace.

He said the city wall on the southern side of the palace was the highest, and from the top, one could enjoy a breathtaking view of the sunrise.

He said after a winter snowfall, the camellia trees near the Crimson Snow Pavilion would be covered in snow, resembling winter-blooming camellias.

He said the red plum blossoms in the Plum Garden were more vibrantly red than any plum blossoms he had seen in the capital.

He said he hoped to have the opportunity to view these beautiful sights with me one day, if fate allowed.

One day, he said to me:

"I've heard that the azaleas in the western suburbs haven't faded yet this year. Miss Ning, would you be willing to join me in visiting them if you have time?"

It seemed I had never told him that my favorite flower was actually the willow, but after spending time with him, I had gradually come to appreciate the beauty of azaleas as well.

So I nodded in agreement to his invitation.

On the chosen day, we set off toward the western suburbs, chatting merrily along the way. I enjoyed sharing my whimsical thoughts with him, as few would indulge me, but he was always willing to engage in lengthy discussions with me.

I found this feeling quite wondrous, as if I had found someone who truly understood me, knowing my thoughts and intentions from just a glance or gesture.

As we were conversing joyfully, I suddenly felt someone tugging at my sleeve from behind.

Puzzled, I turned around to find the young Miss Song standing behind me, I knew not when she had arrived.

Half of her face was covered by a veil, revealing only a pair of watery eyes.

Through the thin veil, I could vaguely make out what seemed to be an injury on her face. So I gently asked her,

"Did your stepmother beat you again?"

She shook her head and quickly took out a crumpled silver note from her waist, handing it to me.

"This is the silver I borrowed from you last time, sister. I'm returning it now."

Seeing her pitiful circumstances, I did not wish to accept the silver note, but she insisted, forcibly placing it in my hand. Then she shook the wine jug in her other hand, saying:

"I bought wine for my father. I'm in a hurry to deliver it home, but I'll come back another day to express my gratitude properly."

As she turned to leave in haste, I instinctively reached out to stop her, causing her to stumble forward and lose her balance.

The wine jug she was carrying flew out of her hand, its stopper dislodging, and the wine splashed toward Xiao Jingheng.

I managed to grab her arm, preventing her from falling, but a good portion of the wine had spilled onto Xiao Jingheng's bandaged wound.

Song Zhao was terrified and kept apologizing profusely to Xiao Jingheng. I didn't even have a chance to console her, as I was more concerned that Xiao Jingheng's wound on his arm, which had just started healing in the past two days, would be aggravated by the irritation of the wine.

At that moment, I could think of nothing else but quickly removing the bandages and rolling up his sleeve to let the wound air out.

But to my surprise...

Xiao Jingheng abruptly pulled his arm away from my grasp, looking somewhat distressed.

His expression was unpleasant as he hurriedly said, "It's not a problem. I wouldn't want to cause any impropriety for Miss Ning."

I'm not foolish; I understood his refusal clearly.

It would be improper for a woman to undress a man in public.

I was speechless for a moment, feeling quite awkward.

I thought to myself, it seems we won't be able to appreciate the azaleas today.

The next moment, I heard Xiao Jingheng say that he had just remembered some urgent matters at home, and he hastily left.

I stood there dazed, watching his hurried departure, feeling an inexplicable tightness in my heart, a strange and unpleasant sensation.

"Sister Ning, did I anger that gentleman? It was my fault..."

I heard Song Zhao's faint voice apologizing to me.

Turning back, I saw her hanging her head in a remorseful manner.

It wasn't her intention, and if I hadn't stopped her, the wine would not have spilled. I had no intention of blaming her, and instead consoled her gently, telling her not to take it to heart.

Her emotions came and went quickly. After letting go of her self-reproach, she soon marveled aloud,

"But that gentleman is truly brave. The wine I bought for my father was the most potent from the Tianxiang Building, enough to burn one's stomach upon drinking. Yet when it spilled onto his wound, he didn't even frown."

I absent-mindedly responded, "Yes..."

But soon, I found it strange:

If even potent wine spilling onto his wound could not faze him, then why could I clearly hear his muffled groans of enduring pain whenever his dressings were changed, from outside his room?

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