Volume One, Chapter 15: Crafting the Incense Pill

As soon as she returned to the courtyard, she wasted no time calling Xiao Lian inside.

Xiao Lian had now been promoted to serve in the inner chambers. According to the household rules, a concubine’s daughter was allowed only one personal maid.

Therefore, although Shen Qingdai reported Xiao Lian as a second-rank attendant, the household officially allocated funds from her private allowance to support Xiao Lian as her personal maid.

To avoid arousing suspicion, Shen Qingdai wrote out a list filled with common spices, with only a small amount of aged sandalwood mixed in, so it would not stand out.

She handed the list to Xiao Lian: “I suddenly want to try my hand at blending incense. Today, go and purchase the spices on this list.”

Xiao Lian asked no questions and simply took the list to carry out the task.

She knew her place clearly: to do whatever her mistress asked, without asking too much or doing more than required.

Later, Shen Qingdai carefully investigated her background; it matched what she remembered, but still, she could not fully trust her. Thus, she continued to use her, though the reasons remained unspoken.

It was not that she suspected Xiao Lian; rather, the fate of her previous life was still vivid in her mind, so every step had to be taken with extreme caution.

Xiao Lian was efficient, returning shortly after. After handing the goods to Ping Chun, she earnestly assured Shen Qingdai, “Miss, rest assured. I changed my clothes as soon as I came back. No one knows I bought the spices.”

Shen Qingdai nodded. Xiao Lian was more meticulous than Ping Chun, so she was willing to trust her and give her a chance.

She took the spices into the inner chamber, scooped some aged sandalwood into a small porcelain bottle, carefully wrapped the rest, and put them back in their place.

Handing the package back to Xiao Lian, she noticed the girl’s puzzled expression and whispered, “Go to the shop and return these. Use any excuse; no one will know we bought them. If we return them now, it’s as if we never bought them—no one can trace it back to us later.”

Xiao Lian nodded, “I will go at once.”

Shen Qingdai handed her some silver quietly, “Go ahead. It’s okay if they refund less; just make sure the items are returned.”

Only after Xiao Lian disappeared out of sight did Shen Qingdai call Ping Chun to stand guard at the door. She then took out the aged sandalwood and incense pellets.

Today, while in the old madam’s room, she had already planned her move.

The incense pellets were small, much smaller than those used by the old madam. She wrapped the aged sandalwood carefully inside the pellets, making them look no different from ordinary aged sandalwood incense, but inside was the soul-separating incense used by Lady Liu.

After making two pellets, a little incense powder remained, which she wrapped in paper and threw into the brazier before her.

Only after finishing all this did she breathe a sigh of relief, confident there was no way anyone could trace anything back to her.

She suspected Lady Liu might guess the incident was related to her, but without evidence, she could only pretend ignorance.

No matter; before her coming of age, she would pin Lady Liu to the pillar of shame so tightly that she would never recover!

Ping Chun silently took a cotton cloth, dampened it with water, and carefully wiped Shen Qingdai’s hands clean.

Though slow and clumsy, Ping Chun had a sincere heart. She did not understand why her mistress had suddenly come to terms with things, but she was determined to do her utmost to help her achieve her goals.

Looking up at Shen Qingdai, she softly asked, “Tomorrow is Young Master Pei’s poetry gathering. Have you decided what to wear, miss?”

Shen Qingdai smiled faintly, thinking for a moment, then said, “I remember there’s a sky-blue satin skirt embroidered with peonies. That one will do—both elegant and warm.”

“All right, I will fetch it for you shortly.”

Shen Qingdai was reminded and asked, “Has Mu Qing prepared?”

“Already this afternoon. It seems the young master greatly admires Young Master Pei,” Ping Chun replied softly, putting the cloth back into the basin.

Shen Qingdai lightly shook her head, propping her elbow on her forehead, smiling wryly, “That’s only natural. His knowledge is indeed profound. If Mu Qing receives guidance from him, his learning will surely advance by leaps and bounds.”

Ping Chun carried the basin, opened a door, and tilted her head playfully at Shen Qingdai, “I don’t understand all this. Miss, you should rest now. I’ll take my leave.”

Bowing lightly, she closed the door behind her.

Shen Qingdai shook her head in resignation, silently thinking Ping Chun was still young and easily startled.

A faint smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.

The next morning, at dawn, the courtyard outside was blanketed in pristine snow.

Shen Qingdai was awakened by Shen Muqing.

Unlike other children who might shout or tug at her, he quietly recited Young Master Pei Jingzhu’s poetry collection by her bedside.

Enough!

She was so sleepy. Why did Muqing have to rise so early?

Silently frustrated, Shen Qingdai slammed the quilt twice in protest.

The worst was that the little rascal was staring at her with wide, innocent eyes, blinking away.

She took a deep breath and relented.

She vented her frustration by squeezing Muqing’s chubby cheeks.

Ping Chun was also somewhat helpless but smiled at Muqing, “Alright, young master, Miss is awake now. You may go sit in the outer room while I help her get up.”

Muqing nodded, stood up with the poetry book in hand, and lightly hopped down.

He strode out confidently, not forgetting to call back, “Sister, hurry up. Don’t keep me waiting.”

Shen Qingdai closed her eyes in silent exasperation, repeating firmly in her mind: No hitting, no hitting—he’s my younger brother.

Today she was genuinely tired. Ping Chun’s skillful hands moved busily over her head while she kept her eyes half-closed, still half asleep.

Only once the carriage was moving did she suddenly awaken and lift the curtain to look outside.

Seeing they had reached the outskirts, she glanced at Ping Chun and asked, “Are we going to the plum grove outside the city?”

“Yes. We’re early, so we can gather some morning dew to warm the kettle and brew tea,” Ping Chun replied.

Before Ping Chun could finish, Shen Muqing interjected.

Seeing Shen Qingdai turn to look at him, he nervously fiddled with his sleeve, lowering his eyes as if the words hadn’t come from him.

Shen Qingdai sighed. Whenever it came to Pei Jingzhu, her usually steady and disciplined little brother became so carefree and immature—it was truly exasperating.

Fortunately, the coachman outside came to her rescue.

“Second Miss, Second Young Master, we have arrived.”

Ping Chun lowered the curtain, placed a small stool beside the carriage, and said, “Miss, please get down.”

Pei Jingzhu, nearby, saw the carriage approaching and rose to welcome her.

As he drew near, a slender hand reached out from the carriage, pulling back the curtain and leaning out. Ping Chun helped her down.

No sooner had Shen Qingdai straightened herself than she saw Pei Jingzhu staring blankly at the carriage, seemingly distracted.

Thinking he had not yet seen Shen Muqing, she asked gently, “Muqing hasn’t come down yet.”