Cui Yunchu stood on the steps, let out a soft cough, and thoroughly prepared herself. She curled her fingers and gently tapped on the door, her voice sweet and melodious. “Lord Zhou.”
“...”
Time passed bit by bit, but there was no sound from inside. Cui Yunchu glanced back at the young monk who had led the way, only to find that he had disappeared without a trace at some point.
She pressed her ear against the doorframe, straining to hear any movement inside, and called out again. “Lord Zhou.”
There was a faint clatter, as if a teacup had been knocked over, but beyond that, nothing else.
Cui Yunchu frowned. “I hadn’t heard he was deaf.”
Standing nearby, Xing’er whispered, “Miss, could it be that your voice was too... affected and scared him off?”
Cui Yunchu clicked her tongue. “Can’t be.”
If he had such little backbone, how could he possibly keep up with her games? Wouldn’t he be done for long before things even got interesting?
She mulled it over, then tried a different tone. “Lord Zhou, are you there? This humble maiden has arrived.”
It sounded just like a dissolute young rake visiting a brothel. Cui Yunchu touched her own face and shuddered.
The mistress and her maid fussed around outside the door for a while.
Cui Yunchu had never been the patient type. The disguise she wore now was only because Cui Qingyuan had ordered her to marry, and she had no choice but to comply.
She called out a few more times, but still, no one answered from within. She ordered Xing’er, “Step aside.”
Xing’er quickly moved to the side. Cui Yunchu raised her leg, ready to kick the door with all her might, but the force she had built up never connected—the door swung open lightly of its own accord, throwing her off balance.
“Miss!” Xing’er cried out in alarm.
Caught by her own momentum, Cui Yunchu stumbled into the room, one leg stretched out in front of her in a split that grew wider and wider.
Her legs were pulled taut, and the pain twisted her face.
“Miss this, Miss that—just help me up!”
Xing’er stammered an “Oh, oh,” and shuffled forward in small, hesitant steps. But just as she got close to Cui Yunchu, Cui Yunchu’s legs gave way in a full split, and she landed hard on the floor with a thud.
The pain made her grimace and groan, and all the careful control she had over her expression shattered into pieces.
“Miss, it seems no one’s in the room,” Xing’er said.
Cui Yunchu looked around several times. There was indeed no sign of the so-called Lord Zhou, nor any other living creature.
She whirled around and slapped Xing’er on the head. “I told you to save me—did you not hear me? When I’m in a state like this, you just stand there saying ‘Miss, Miss’—are you chirping for spring?”
Those tiny little steps she took, as if she was afraid of rescuing me a moment sooner!
Xing’er looked aggrieved. “But Miss, you said earlier that I shouldn’t rush around like a whirlwind today, that I had to leave a good impression on Lord Zhou, since people say, ‘Like mistress, like maid.’”
It was in that little meditation room earlier that the young lady herself had said so.
“I said it, I said it!” Cui Yunchu gave her two more pats on the head. “Do you have any sense of priorities? Now you choose to be obedient, but when I told you to deliver a letter to Prince An’s mansion before, why didn’t you listen then?”
“...”
There was no way she could have gone then. If the young lady went, she’d get at worst some cold sneers and sarcasm. But if she, a servant, went, Prince An would take one look at her and think of her mistress. Flaying her alive or skinning her would be the least of it.
After all, Prince An’s hatred for the young lady was bone-deep and teeth-grinding.
Cui Yunchu glared at her, sitting on the floor massaging her aching legs.
Other mistress-and-maid pairs made their entrance with such elegance—like falling petals and drifting blossoms.
Her maid was purely there to be laughed at.
Cui Yunchu felt that half her image had been ruined by these two incompetent servants.
Look at Tang Qingwan and her maid—that kind of stately, noble air, turning heads and drawing gasps of admiration, as if peach blossoms floated behind them.
And her? All she got were people doubled over in laughter.
“Just you wait—I’ll sell you off and get a new one sooner or later.”
Xing’er pouted, feeling wronged, but still tried to be useful. “Miss, now that we’re outside, you really shouldn’t be rubbing yourself like that. If someone sees, it’s not proper.”
Which well-bred young lady sat on the ground, legs splayed apart, wincing while rubbing her inner thighs?
Hearing this, Cui Yunchu quickly clamped her legs shut.
But her strained muscles still ached badly. She struggled to suppress the pain, looking around again—still no one in sight.
“I am a proper young lady, and what a proper young lady does is whatever I do,” she muttered softly to herself. Then, as if suddenly remembering something, she pressed her lips together and fell into a brief silence while still seated on the floor.
Her head hung slightly.
Xing’er stepped forward. “Miss, is something wrong?”
“Nothing.” Cui Yunchu took her hand and stood up. “You’re right. I need to maintain the image of a proper young lady.”
After all, she had to keep up the facade in front of Lord Zhou.
If things went smoothly, she’d have to keep it up for two or three years. If he was particularly sharp, she might have to maintain it for a lifetime.
Fortunately, she was a pretty good actress.
But no one would willingly wear a mask forever.
Because even if someone was kind to you, the one they liked wasn’t really you—it was the person you pretended to be.
Cui Yunchu waved a dismissive hand.
Who cared about all that? If she could win someone’s real heart through pretense, wasn’t that still her own skill?
“That little monk said Lord Zhou was here—so where is he?” Cui Yunchu sent Xing’er to search the room, but they found nothing.
The room was simply furnished. Apart from a folding screen, a few wardrobes, a bed, and some tables and chairs, there was nothing else. You could take it all in at a single glance.
“Maybe that little monk led us to the wrong place,” Xing’er suggested.
The mistress and maid debated for a while, then decided to head out.
Since Lord Zhou Yuanmo wasn’t there, Cui Yunchu dropped the pretense. Coughing as she went, she limped out, dragging her injured leg.
Xing’er was walking ahead.
Suddenly, with a bang, the door slammed shut. Cui Yunchu frowned. “I told you to go out, so why did you close the door? Xing’er, are you getting dumber by the day?”
Xing’er’s voice was stiff. “Miss, it wasn’t me who closed it.”
“If it wasn’t you, was it a ghost?” Cui Yunchu pushed her aside and grabbed the door handle.
She couldn’t pull it open. She put all her strength into it again, tugging hard until the door trembled, but it remained firmly shut.
“...”
She turned to look at Xing’er. Xing’er stared back at her.
“What are you standing there for? Help me pull!”
Xing’er quickly came to assist. The two of them strained with all the strength they had, but the door still wouldn’t budge.
The window was open, and a breeze blew in, brushing against their backs. The hairs on the back of Xing’er’s neck stood on end.
Cui Yunchu’s face started to pale slightly.
The room was dim. Although she wasn’t as afraid of the dark as before, the shadows of the past still lingered in her heart. It was a deep-seated fear, one very hard to fully overcome.
Especially in this kind of quiet, gloomy stillness.
“Is anyone there? Someone! Hurry, come!” Cui Yunchu shouted at the top of her lungs, her voice even cracking a little—a far cry from those earlier dulcet tones of “Lord Zhou.”
Her voice was loud enough for people outside to hear. A young monk sweeping the grounds rushed over in haste.
From inside the room, she screamed frantically, “Is anyone out there? This door is broken—we can’t get out!”
Outside the door, a man was gripping the handle, one foot wedged against the threshold. He crouched low, leaning back with all his weight, pulling hard.
“...”
The young monk stood there, momentarily silent.
Stepping forward with silent footsteps, he bent down and said to the man, “Good sir, what has happened? Is there any way I, a humble monk, might be of help?”
