The current Prime Minister was Meng Guangshen. Who was Prime Minister Lu?
She heard the young coffin-bearer whisper: “Godfather, why is this coffin so heavy? It’s as if it contains more than one person. My arms are so sore…” He was subsequently scolded by his godfather.
The funeral procession passed by her spirit. The enormous chanting shook heaven and earth. Falling paper banners spun, passing through her body without obstruction.
Certain she’d become a ghost, she instantly dispersed into heaven and earth, then was gathered by an enormous force and dragged to an extremely distant place…
Opening her eyes was like being rolled around seven or eighty times inside a box then dumped out—heaven and earth were spinning.
Qun Qing endured the discomfort when a ladle of cold water mercilessly poured down on her head. Beside her ear rang ghostly crying sounds that made her tailbone tingle.
Qun Qing turned her head extremely slowly to glance at those “ghosts,” only to see several palace maids biting their teeth and sobbing quietly. The underworld’s palace maids wore simple chignons, their appearances seemingly no different from palace maids above ground.
“It’s hot—people faint easily. This servant is cooling you down. Don’t think you can escape punishment by pretending to faint while swaying around.” A ladle of water violently poured onto another person, water droplets splashing on Qun Qing’s face.
Qun Qing let water droplets fall from her hair and eyebrows, the wet sensation flooding into her collar.
Water…
She tightened her fingers, crumpling the hem of her multicolored skirt. Tighter still—her palm transmitted clear, sharp pain.
She felt her palm pressed against scorching ground, the unbearable stabbing pain in both knees, distant muffled cicada calls entering her ears, intense sunlight overhead.
This was the mortal realm!
Holding the water ladle was an inner attendant in date-red robes wearing a cloth cap. Standing beside him was a woman in palace dress in her forties, broad and plump. Meeting Qun Qing’s gaze, she hurriedly signaled with her eyes, telling her not to look around carelessly.
Qun Qing stared up at her for quite a while, finally pulling back a thread of memory from the chaos—this was the teaching palace official from when she first entered the Lateral Courts under the identity “Qun Qing,” called Nanny Zhang.
But wasn’t this from the first year of Shenglin?
She slowly reached to touch that dagger wound on her lower abdomen, touching again and again—the wound was gone…
Eunuch Pei had the palace maids kneel under the scorching sun as punishment. Nanny Zhang advised: “Supervisor, if there are misbehaving maids, however you educate them hereafter is acceptable. But today, this servant was ordered by His Highness the Crown Prince to take them for selection by the two noble masters. It wouldn’t be proper to keep the noble masters waiting anxiously.”
Selection by the two noble masters…
Qun Qing recalled—back then she’d assumed a palace maid’s identity to return to the palace. After staying in the Lateral Courts for over a month, she’d used the opportunity of palace maid selection to reach Princess Bao’an’s side, then infiltrated the Six Offices, becoming Nan Chu’s chess piece planted in the palace.
It seemed today was precisely the day she left the Lateral Courts. But why the kneeling punishment again?
She heard Supervisor Pei sneer coldly: “Precisely because we’re selecting maids for the noble masters must we choose carefully—absolutely cannot let those with deficient virtue sneak in.”
Nanny Zhang was surprised: “What deficiency? These maids were all carefully selected by me!”
Supervisor Pei said: “Someone secretly reported to this servant that the night before last, one among you privately exchanged messages with an outside man. According to Da Chen law, palace maids are forbidden from communicating with outsiders—violators receive thirty lashes. If discovered to be a spy, death without burial! You may denounce each other. The noble masters are still waiting in Luanyi Pavilion. If within one pot of tea’s time you still can’t find that person, you’ll all share thirty lashes together!”
The teenage palace maids instantly swayed as if about to collapse.
The punishment rod was made from bramble branches covered with thorns. When it fell heavily, the thorns embedded in flesh wrapped in clothing. When raised high, it tore flesh out together. Within ten strokes, cries would cease. Thirty strokes would smash lower limbs like crushed melon pulp.
Even preserving one’s life meant spending the rest crippled.
Qun Qing stared at her skirt hem, her thoughts somewhat chaotic. She’d never believed in resurrection in her life, still unclear whether this truly was a return to the first year of Shenglin or if she remained in a dying dream. If the latter, it was merely what elders called “life flashing before one’s eyes”…
Just thinking this, her head was heavily struck by Supervisor Pei’s whisk: “So calm—can’t squeeze out a single tear? You speak first.”
Qun Qing’s heart jumped. She had no memory of this part!
Before she could speak, an urgent voice suddenly sounded beside her: “Eunuch, this servant reports—the one who passed messages is precisely Qun Qing! This servant rose at midnight and heard her talking with an unfamiliar man.”
Qun Qing sharply turned toward the palace maid on her right. The other didn’t dare meet her eyes, prostrating herself with trembling shoulders.
In an instant, familiar crisis spread throughout Qun Qing’s entire body, incredibly real in reminding her of the sensation of being alive—also reminding her she might be about to die a second time.