Chapter 25: Nightmare
Although Longyu Pavilion was bustling, not a single imperial concubine came to offer congratulations to the newly appointed Zhen Jieyu. Lan Wu herself was quite content with this, sitting beneath the corridor watching the palace servants arrange things, occasionally offering a comment or two.
Luo Yun had returned to the Imperial Presence not long after escorting Lan Wu over. Initially, she had thought Lan Wu might not be able to command the scene, but clearly, she had worried unnecessarily. Watching Lan Wu ask each palace servant their name and quickly assign duties to the head palace maids and eunuchs, her words and actions were especially adept. Anyone unaware would never guess it was her first day as an imperial concubine.
“…That’s all, Your Majesty.” Luo Yun reported Lan Wu’s reactions to the Emperor, only to see him remain silent.
She couldn’t help but find it a bit strange. In the past, had His Majesty ever ordered someone to pay such close attention when any other concubine was conferred a title? It seemed never.
But His Majesty had always treated Miss Lan Wu differently from others.
Compared to Yilan Hall, Longyu Pavilion was still too small. However, small had its advantages—at least she didn’t have to worry about which palace servants might have been planted in the hall to cause her trouble.
Not long after noon, Longyu Pavilion was tidied up. Lan Wu instructed that she wished to nap for a while and told the palace servants not to disturb her.
Yet this nap was far from restful.
Lan Wu dreamed of the early spring before her death in her previous life.
She hated cold weather. Once it turned cold, her hands and feet would turn icy, and even using a hot water bottle couldn’t ward off the chill. So, she often spent her days nestled under blankets, either reading books or playing chess with the palace servants.
Not long after Chu Mingheng left the palace, a fine, dense rain began to fall over the imperial city. The palace servants said that after this rain, spring would arrive with clear skies, and the weather would warm up.
Back then, she had also waited expectantly.
When night fell, she was awakened by a sharp cry. Dazedly opening her eyes, she saw Consort Shu and Consort Li standing before her, followed by many other imperial concubines. They all looked at her direction with faces full of horror, even afraid to look further.
Why were they looking at her like that? Why were they in her palace?
Upon waking, her mind felt as if ants were crawling through it, her head swollen and aching. Supporting her forehead with one hand and pushing herself up from the bed with the other, she instinctively glanced to the side and saw a person—a strange man.
Consort Shu accused her of taking advantage of the Emperor’s absence from the palace to engage in an illicit affair with an imperial guard in Luoying Pavilion, showing no shame, defiling the palace, and deserving death by strangulation.
She couldn’t utter a single word; her throat had been drugged mute. Her entire body struggled with the last remnants of brute strength.
She wanted to wait for Chu Mingheng to return to the palace, but what she received that very night was a white silk cord.
How bold they were, daring to kill her without waiting for the Emperor’s return. A white silk cord tightly wrapped around her neck. Pitifully, she died in disgrace, not even knowing who had harmed her.
At the end of the dream, raindrops fell from the eaves, and a shadowy, cold, withered woman’s face looked down at her.
Outside the dream, Lan Wu gasped heavily on her bed. Her face was now flushed, redder than that of a charming lady drunk on wine. Yet, seeing the distress on her expression and her continuous murmuring, anyone could tell she was suffering.
The palace maids knelt on the ground, anxiously awaiting her summons.
Today was the first time they had seen this Zhen Jieyu. Although she was to be their mistress from now on, and they should naturally be loyal, they had no other intentions to begin with. Yet now, for some unknown reason, the Jieyu had only been napping on the couch when she suddenly developed a high fever and convulsions. In a panic, they hurriedly summoned the Imperial Physician and reported it to His Majesty.
Now His Majesty was standing by the couch, with three Imperial Physicians kneeling below. They claimed the Jieyu had had a nightmare and would be fine once she woke up.
Chu Mingheng reached out to touch Lan Wu’s forehead—it wasn’t hot, but her face was unnaturally flushed.
“Fine once she wakes up?” His voice was cold and chilling, spoken lightly yet striking fear into those who heard it. “Then make her wake up. If she isn’t awake within the time it takes for one stick of incense to burn, you won’t need to stay in the Imperial Medical Academy any longer.”
The Imperial Physicians lowered their heads, not daring to say more, and simply responded with “Yes.”
From Lan Wu’s expression, it was clear her dream was nothing good. Otherwise, her body wouldn’t be trembling more and more, and her hands beneath the brocade quilt wouldn’t be cold and clammy.
Chu Mingheng saw her lips slightly parting as if she were saying something. He leaned in to listen but could only hear faint, despairing murmurs. After a long while, a clear word finally emerged from her whispers, tremblingly conveying the emotions of the dreamer.
“Save… me?”
Chu Mingheng’s gaze sharpened, shifting back to Lan Wu’s face.
Who was she dreaming about?
Did Consort Shu frighten her like this?
Seeing that Lan Wu had already bitten her lips until they bled, Chu Mingheng reached out to part them, gently pressing his thumb between her teeth to release her tender lips.
Before the Imperial Physicians could decide on a method to wake Lan Wu, she suddenly opened her eyes.
The sound of rain outside the window dripped steadily, the noise of it falling from the eaves to the ground particularly distinct. Her frightened gaze first fell on the window, and she uttered her first words upon waking.
“…Is it raining—?”
Her voice was especially hoarse, like coarse sand scraping her throat, impossible to swallow, leaving only a lingering sense of something foreign.
Chu Mingheng didn’t even glance outside the window. He pinched Lan Wu’s chin, forcing her to look at him, his tone unfriendly. “What rain? Have you lost your mind from sleeping?”
Her dull, lifeless eyes seemed to regain vitality at his words, gradually brightening before welling up with tears.
Lan Wu felt as though she had died all over again in that dream. Now, coming back to her senses and seeing Chu Mingheng’s face, she finally realized she was safe, and tears suddenly fell.
Unmindful of the others still outside the bed curtains, she clung to Chu Mingheng’s sleeve and buried herself in his embrace.
The people in the hall swiftly withdrew.
Chu Mingheng pinched the back of Lan Wu’s neck, trying to make her come out, but her grip was surprisingly strong, refusing to let go no matter what.
“Lan Wu, do you want to be punished?”
Lan Wu’s body stiffened for a moment before she slowly released her hold and moved away.
She had just recovered from the dream and had been crying, her nose red and tears still falling. When she looked at Chu Mingheng again, her gaze was incredibly complex.
It wasn’t an illusion—Chu Mingheng saw dislike in her eyes.
“Your Majesty, call this concubine A-Wu. It’s this concubine’s childhood name, only for Your Majesty to call.” As she spoke, Lan Wu blinked, and all the emotions in her eyes vanished, leaving only Chu Mingheng’s reflection visible.
Even when expressing dislike, her gaze was exceptionally charming, that glance seeming like a coquettish rebuke directed at Chu Mingheng.
Now she’s being coy about something else.
Chu Mingheng recalled both in his dreams and in reality, she always had some unique ‘things’ to give him.
‘Only dancing for Your Majesty to see.’
‘Only Your Majesty has seen it.’
‘Only calling for Your Majesty.’
For these ‘things,’ Chu Mingheng collected them one by one, but he wanted more. He wanted to pry open all the little secrets on Lan Wu’s body.
Lan Wu should have no reservations toward him.
“What did Ah Wu dream about? Tell me.” In the dark and profound long night, a dry well cracked open. The parched, barren soil within gradually seeped out sweet well water. The mouth of the well resembled a person’s eyes, gazing into the depths from the darkness.