Chapter 184: Death Anniversary
The palace attendants waited outside the hall for nearly half an hour. Hearing no movement from within, one of them peeked inside and saw Her Ladyship sitting on the prayer mat, facing a bronze mirror behind the curtain.
A bronze mirror?
Why would there be such a large bronze mirror in Changsheng Hall?
Though finding it strange, seeing that Her Ladyship had not called for anyone or given any instructions, the attendants outside did not presume to disturb her.
The rain fell like a thin veil of gauze. Reaching a hand out, one’s palm would soon gather a layer of water droplets—fine and dense—that, when brushed away, turned into bean-sized raindrops and dripped down.
The early spring rain carried a chill, and the cold mountain wind made one shiver.
But the attendants did not have to wait long outside before they saw Her Ladyship emerge from the hall.
“Your Ladyship?” Lian Qiao draped a cloak over her shoulders and said softly, “It has rained, and the road is muddy. It may take longer than usual to return to the villa.”
Lan Wu seemed somewhat dispirited, as if lacking energy, and only responded with a soft “Mm” to Lian Qiao’s words.
On the way back from Wuji Temple to the villa, Lan Wu remained unusually quiet.
It had rained the previous night, and now it was raining again, making the road slippery and wet. Fortunately, the path had been paved, so despite the mud and slipperiness, the journey proceeded without incident.
The only issue was that Lan Wu had caught a slight chill. By the time she alighted from the carriage at the villa, she was coughing softly.
“Has Your Ladyship caught a cold? This servant will go and fetch Court Physician Chen to examine you.” Dan Shan poured her a cup of hot tea, urging her to drink a few sips to warm up. Seeing her pale complexion, Dan Shan hurried out of the hall to summon Court Physician Chen.
Chen Li had just visited the day before to check on Lan Wu’s injured elbow. When she arrived today and saw her condition, she took her pulse and couldn’t help but frown. “Your Ladyship didn’t rest well last night, did you? If the injury on your hand pains you at night, you can have someone light some calming incense.”
“Your Ladyship has just returned from outside. The spring rain is cold. Have someone prepare a bowl of cold-dispelling soup for you later. If you still don’t feel better after drinking it, you’ll need to take medicine tomorrow.”
Hearing these words, Lan Wu finally showed a reaction, muttering softly, “Your medicine is the bitterest. I don’t want to drink it.”
Chen Li couldn’t help but smile at this. She had served other mistresses in the palace but had never encountered one as good-natured as Lan Wu. She was entirely like a pampered young lady who loved to act spoiled, putting on no airs and treating the palace attendants kindly. No one disliked her.
But when it came to illness and medicine, Chen Li couldn’t let her have her way. His Majesty would arrive in a few days to fetch her. If he saw this little ancestor sick, wouldn’t he be furious?
“Yes, Your Ladyship. This humble official also hopes Your Ladyship remains healthy, free from illness and misfortune.”
Lan Wu looked out the window at the drizzling rain and remembered something. “These days are cold. Have the kitchen prepare some cold-dispelling, warming dishes. The attendants should also take care not to catch a chill.”
“Yes, Your Ladyship. This servant will arrange it immediately.”
In the letter Chu Mingheng had sent to Lan Wu, he said he had already set out. Since he had departed when he wrote the letter, it would take a few days for the letter to arrive. He should be arriving in a few more days.
But exactly how many days would it be?
At night, the rain stopped, and calming incense was lit in the hall.
Lan Wu lay on the couch, her heart yearning to enter a dream and catch a glimpse of Chu Mingheng. Yet, when she woke from her slumber, not even a shadow of him had appeared.
Instead, her cough had grown worse.
Lan Wu reached up to touch her throat, frowning at the pain.
It seemed she really had to take medicine.
Chu Mingheng could arrive at any moment, and at such a critical time, she needed to recover as quickly as possible…
When Chen Li hurried over to check Lan Wu’s pulse, she happened to hear Dan Shan persuading Lan Wu not to go to Wuji Temple that day.
Lan Wu took a sip of hot water, trying to soothe the dryness and pain in her throat, but it clearly did little to help. Her voice came out hoarse, and she coughed intermittently as she spoke.
“I won’t go, I won’t go—cough—I won’t go these next few days either—”
Chen Li checked Lan Wu’s pulse and said, “It’s still due to catching a chill yesterday. I should have given you medicine yesterday.”
But yesterday, Lan Wu had clearly been in a bad mood and unwilling to take medicine, so she hadn’t spoken up.
What a regret.
Lan Wu took another sip of water, suppressing the urge to cough, and asked Chen Li, “Can this illness of mine get better quickly? Within today or tomorrow—is that possible?”
Chen Li widened her eyes, thinking to herself: Illness strikes like a collapsing mountain. Moreover, how quickly one recovers depends on the patient’s cooperation. Her words make it sound as if the illness obeys her commands.
If she had such power, any illness would vanish with a single word from her.
But such thoughts could not be spoken too bluntly.
Chen Li hesitated slightly before replying softly, “If Your Highness wishes to recover quickly, take your medicine daily. You should be better in about three to five days.”
Three to five days… by then, Chu Mingheng might already have arrived.
The thought of Chu Mingheng seeing her ill again as soon as he arrived…
Lan Wu pressed her forehead and told Chen Li to prepare the prescription and brew the medicine.
It wasn’t raining today, but the sky remained overcast.
Lan Wu spent her time painting in the hall.
This was her first time painting a person. Following the image of Chu Mingheng in her memory, she sketched the outlines on paper.
Her intentions were good, but the figure she painted bore little resemblance to Chu Mingheng.
The nose was too large, the eyes too small, and a drop of ink had even fallen into one eye, making the pupil appear unnaturally dark and quite ugly.
Lan Wu had spent half the afternoon painting this, and the more she looked at it, the angrier she became. She crumpled the paper into a ball and was about to throw it to the ground when her hand paused, slowly withdrawing.
She had intended to paint a portrait of Chu Mingheng as a gift for their reunion after three months apart. This one was a failure, but what if the next few paintings turned out even worse?
Better to keep it for now.
Before going to bed that night, Lan Wu finished her second painting. Compared to the first, it showed significant improvement.
But it still didn’t look much like Chu Mingheng.
Lan Wu didn’t show it to anyone and stored the painting away herself. After taking her medicine, she lay down to sleep.
Yet again, she did not dream of Chu Mingheng that night.
She desperately wanted to see the Chu Mingheng of her past life in her dreams once more, but for several days in a row, she had not dreamed at all.
Meanwhile, her illness was almost cured.
“It hasn’t rained these past few days, Your Highness. Look, there are even stars tonight. Tomorrow is sure to be a fine day.” Lian Qiao was tidying up her needlework, unsure why Lan Wu had suddenly taken an interest in embroidering handkerchiefs. She had been at it all afternoon.
Lan Wu looked up at the sky outside the window, faintly able to see the stars twinkling in the night sky.
Tomorrow…
Lan Wu pursed her lips slightly and asked, “Is tomorrow the second day of the month?”
“Yes, Your Highness. Tomorrow is the second day, and it will surely be fine weather. Your cold will soon be better.” After saying this, Lian Qiao smiled.
Lan Wu felt a heaviness in her heart. Gazing at the night outside the window, she slowly let out a soft sigh.
Fine weather, of course it would be fine weather.
In her previous life, it was on just such a fine day that she met her end.