After dining with Yi Lang, Yang Wan walked to the side hall with a bowl of freshly cooked porridge from the small kitchen, only to find Deng Ying standing at the bottom of the steps, not having gone inside.
“Why haven’t you gone in?”
“Oh.”
Deng Ying put his hands behind his back, wiping them on the hem of his robe. “I just came down from the roof ridge, I’m a bit dirty.”
Yang Wan walked up to him. “Did Li Yu tell you something?”
Even if Deng Ying hadn’t admitted it, Yang Wan understood what he was being cautious about, but since he didn’t want to discuss it, she didn’t press further. She carried the porridge bowl toward the stone table in the courtyard. “Let’s sit here to eat. The porridge is hot anyway, we can let it cool a bit.”
Deng Ying followed, asking, “Haven’t you already eaten?”
Yang Wan turned and smiled, “Yes, but I wasn’t full. I can have another bowl with you.”
Deng Ying picked up his porridge bowl. “You don’t get full even when eating with His Highness?”
Yang Wan lowered her head with a small smile. “Now… I’m even somewhat afraid of him.”
After speaking, she blew on her porridge, staring absent-mindedly at the oil floating on its surface. “I don’t know why.”
Deng Ying said, “As long as you treat me the way His Highness restricts me, His Highness will treat you well.”
Yang Wan looked up. “If I treated you that way, would you still help me fix the roof?”
“Of course.”
Yang Wan rested her chin in her hand and leaned closer to him. “Deng Ying.”
“Mm?”
“You’re even more infuriating than Yi Lang.”
Deng Ying froze at her words, but Yang Wan simply added another spoonful of porridge to his bowl. “Eat.”
The evening wind quickly cooled the porridge. They sat in the courtyard, eating and talking over a dish of pickled cucumbers.
After the hour of you, suddenly there was a commotion in the inner palace. A eunuch from the Chengqian Gate came to report that someone had jumped into the moat by the Donghua Gate.
Lights immediately blazed up in all the palace halls.
Yang Wan asked He Yu to attend Yi Lang’s studies, then came out to find Deng Ying standing against the wind before the Chengqian Palace gate, silently gazing outward.
The lantern light cast shadows across his profile, obscuring his features.
“What’s wrong?”
Deng Ying lifted his chin toward the moat. “Yanxi Palace is searching for someone.”
Just as he finished speaking, several people came running to the Chengqian Gate. Yang Wan instinctively stepped back.
“It’s alright, Wan Wan, it’s Zhao Qi from the Eastern Depot.”
He lifted his robe and descended the steps. “What happened?”
Zhao Qi reported, “Director, something’s happened to Pang Ling from Yanxi Palace.”
Yang Wan quickly asked, “Is he alive?”
“Still alive, we rescued him.”
A eunuch at Chengqian Gate, not understanding the situation, casually remarked: “These days people are jumping into rivers because they can’t go on living. What kind of living hell is Yanxi Palace? How pitiful.”
Zhao Qi said, “What jumping? Have you ever seen someone jump with large stones tied to their ankles? And it wasn’t the moat—it was the sewage pool by Donghua Gate. Director, we also caught two people from Yanxi Palace, they’ve been taken to the Inner Eastern Depot.”
Yang Wan said, “Don’t take them to the Inner Eastern Depot, bring them to Chengqian Palace.”
Only then did Zhao Qi notice Yang Wan standing behind Deng Ying. He stiffened his neck and said, “These are people arrested by our Eastern Depot, how can we bring them to Chengqian Palace?”
“The Eastern Depot isn’t suitable.”
Zhao Qi hesitantly looked toward Deng Ying.
Deng Ying said nothing but nodded, indicating he should comply.
Yang Wan turned and walked inside, instructing the palace servants as she went: “Close all the other palace gates, leave only the side door of the front hall open.”
The Chengqian Palace servants rarely saw Yang Wan so serious and hurried to carry out her orders.
Soon after, Zhao Qi led the Depot guards in dragging Pang Ling through the side door.
The night was cold, with the wind howling against the ground screens, making windows and doors creak and rattle.
Pang Ling’s lungs were full of filthy water. Soaked through and chilled by the wind during the journey, when Zhao Qi’s men set him down, he collapsed prone, his shoulders heaving with violent coughs.
Looking at the filth he was vomiting up, Yang Wan felt her stomach churning.
“Bring him a basin.”
Then she told Pang Ling: “Cough it all up, don’t hold back, get the water out of your lungs.”
The Chengqian Palace servants gathered around covering their noses. He Yu came out with a lantern to light the way for Yang Wan, glanced down at the filth-covered man on the ground, and exclaimed in shock: “Isn’t… isn’t this Eunuch Pang from Noble Consort’s side? How did he end up in such a state? Was he the one who jumped earlier?”
Yang Wan fought down her nausea: “Does this look like someone who jumped?”
He Yu shook her head, “No… not really.”
Just then, the servants brought a basin and helped Pang Ling lean over it.