Just as Zhou Shengsheng's thoughts were forming, a sudden sharp whistling sound, like a gust of wind, rang out beside her ear.
She reflexively looked up and watched in shock as a strand of hair by her temple was cleanly sliced in half.
"Holy crap, does this tyrant have a screw loose? Why is he targeting me?" Zhou Shengsheng was utterly shocked.
"Your Majesty, please calm down." Immediately begging for forgiveness, no matter the situation, was Zhou Shengsheng's survival tactic after years in the palace.
Seeing this two-faced woman, Ming Siran sneered coldly.
He hated two things above all else: first, being called a tyrant. The last person who dared to say that was already flayed alive.
Second, he detested women who put on acts.
"Li Rong."
"Your Majesty." A woman suddenly appeared from the shadows, silent as a ghost. Dressed in the attire of the Yong Kingdom, she exuded efficiency and capability.
"Slap her." With that, he turned his back on Zhou Shengsheng, who was kneeling on the ground, and signaled for Jiang Zhiyu to follow him.
Jiang Zhiyu glanced at Zhou Shengsheng on the ground and found her somewhat familiar. "She didn't do anything wrong. Why is she being punished?"
"Speak again, and you can join her," came the cold, emotionless voice from the towering man in front of her.
Jiang Zhiyu shivered and, with an apologetic glance at Zhou Shengsheng, resolved to find someone to help her later.
After all, they were both from the Zhu Kingdom. How could she stand by and watch a Yong Kingdom person bully her like this?
As the crisp sound of slaps and the muffled gasps of pain echoed behind her, Jiang Zhiyu tightly covered her ears.
The palace... was terrifying.
Since Ming Siran hadn't specified how many slaps, Li Rong felt a pang of guilt as she looked at the girl in front of her, whose fault she didn't even know.
Even after serving him for so many years, she still couldn't predict her emperor's mercurial moods.
"Here, take this medicine and apply it later," Li Rong said, handing her a bottle as she saw the girl's swollen cheeks. She then turned and left.
After all, they were in the Zhu Kingdom's territory, and causing too much of a scene wasn't wise.
As she walked away, Li Rong faintly heard a soft, muffled voice from behind.
"Thank you."
She paused for a moment but continued on without looking back.
After Li Rong left, Zhou Shengsheng knelt on the cold flagstones for a long time until her companion, A Pang, could no longer hold back his sobs and broke into loud wails. Only then did she finally react.
She pulled the little panda into her arms and silently stroked his head, comforting him.
The fiery pain on her cheeks constantly reminded her of the humiliation she had just endured.
Even the whip wounds on her back, soaked in water earlier, seemed to flare up in protest.
After a long while, when A Pang finally stopped crying, she slowly stood up, swaying slightly. The medicine bottle in her arms rolled out, but no one paid it any attention.
By the time she was about to leave, the faint light from the palace lanterns was blown out by a gust of wind, leaving only ashes.
Zhou Shengsheng didn't attend the Spring Festival Banquet, nor did she return to the Xinzhe Repository.
Instead, she dragged her aching, exhausted body to a quiet corner.
This was her personal sanctuary.
She had been transported into this world when she first entered the palace.
Back then, as a young palace maid, she was often bullied and ostracized by the older maids who served Duan Fusheng.
Most people in the palace were unkind.
Even TV dramas romanticize the characters here.
It wasn't until later, when those who had bullied her one by one passed away, that her life improved.
Duan Fusheng, though troublesome and hard to please, was, for the most part, a better master than the other consorts.
He might be a ruthless killer, but he never beat or scolded his servants without reason.
Compared to the maids serving the neighboring Consort De, who were often beaten until they had no intact skin left, she considered herself fortunate.
Except for the occasional beating by the bratty emperor when he took a disliking to her, this was the first time she had been slapped.
Though not as painful as a beating, the humiliation was unprecedented.
"A Pang, remember this. I'll cry just this once. If I cry again, it'll be because I've gained the power to no longer be trampled on."
A Pang quietly listened, gently patting her with his fluffy paws as the tears rolled down her cheeks.
--- The divider is crying. Ming Siran, you'll have your tears to shed later. ---
"Dear Consort, that palace maid of yours is finally dead?"
Below the stage, dancers swayed gracefully, their feathery robes fluttering, capturing the attention of most of the guests.
Unfortunately, the emperor of the Zhu Kingdom never glanced their way.
As long as the person by his side was present, no matter how beautiful the women were, they all paled in comparison.
Duan Fusheng waved away the wine jug Sheng Lan was about to pour for him, feeling a bit restless.
If that little thing, Zhou Shengsheng, were here, she definitely wouldn't pour wine for him in front of the emperor.
Chances are, she'd be grumbling in her heart, wondering why he didn't just stay away if he didn't want to drink, making her stand here for nothing.
Thinking about how he was even considering things from Zhou Shengsheng's perspective, Duan Fusheng couldn't help but chuckle wryly.
"Your Majesty, I feel a bit dizzy. I'll go out for some air," Duan Fusheng said to Liu Xunlan, who was gazing at him adoringly.
Without waiting for a response, he turned and left.
Seeing Duan Fusheng leave, Liu Xunlan grew anxious and wanted to follow him, but before he could stand up, Song Weiqing, sitting beside him, suddenly spoke.
"Your Majesty, this Bai Duo wine of yours has a unique flavor, slightly different from ours in the Zhu Kingdom."
Hearing him talk about wine, Liu Xunlan's interest was piqued, and he began to elaborate enthusiastically.
Song Weiqing listened, nodding occasionally at the more interesting points, though if one looked closely, they'd notice his mind wasn't really on Liu Xunlan.
Instead, his gaze kept drifting to the elegant yet stunningly beautiful girl by Ming Siran's side.
Seeing Duan Fusheng leave his seat, she seemed to relax.
The female lead... why was she with Ming Siran?
Song Weiqing pondered this thoughtfully.
--- The divider reminds everyone not to stay up late. ---
"No need to follow," Duan Fusheng instructed his attendants as he stepped out of the banquet.
Seeing his stern expression, Sheng Lan, who had been about to say something, wisely kept quiet and stepped back.
Once he was alone, Duan Fusheng leisurely strolled in a certain direction.
Today, he wore a deep crimson robe, neither quite a dress nor a robe, and as always didn't adorn himself with any jewelry. His androgynous style had already captured the attention of most of the men present.
In the novel, the author's power was so strong that even though Duan Fusheng had no traits that resembled a woman, as long as he claimed to be one and held the title of Consort, no one could see through his disguise.
Arriving at a secluded spot where even the chirping of insects was absent, Duan Fusheng spotted the girl curled up in the corner, her arms wrapped around her knees, her shoulders trembling.
Close enough to hear, yet he couldn't.
She was really crying, he thought emotionlessly.
But he didn't approach. He simply stood there, silently observing the girl quietly sobbing.
Some might call him cold for not offering any comfort, but others might see a tenderness in the respect he gave her privacy. If he had approached, Zhou Shengsheng's rare moment of genuine emotion would have been cut short.
Only when her shoulders stopped shaking did Duan Fusheng, who had been standing there for God knows how long, turn and leave.
As if he had never been there.
