Chapter 93: Repaying kindness

The jailer really couldn't be counted as respectful of Yang Zhuofei; seeing she wasn't moving, she roughly grabbed her arm and dragged her up, rapidly shackling her, and forced her to walk out.

"Where are you taking this princess?" Yang Zhuofei turned her head and asked, but before she'd finished speaking, her head was pressed back down. She walked forward with a rather grovelling posture, head bowed.

The jailed scoffed, and said, "You're still putting on airs even here, as if you're still the Princess Yu."

The jailer was someone who didn't like Yang Zhuofei; that she could have her current job was all due to the policies from after Jiang Changbai had taken the throne, and towards Yang Zhuofei, who had tried to overthrow the current government, she naturally didn't have any kind feelings. Now, hearing her nag, a not insignificant amount of irritation rose in her heart.

"I really don't know what the Warden was thinking," the jailer muttered to herself quietly.

Yang Zhuofei's strength wasn't comparable to the jailer's, and she could only let her walk her in the Imperial Prison. Suddenly hearing such a sentence, her eyes brightened. "The Warden? Surnamed Zhou, yes?"

"Surnamed Zhou?" The jailer, hearing these words, unexpectedly laughed, as if having heard a joke. "If you want to find that 'Warden' surnamed Zhou, it would be better for you to go ask the person who just moved in next to you. Warden Zhou has been kept in the same place as she was for a long while."

The "Warden Zhou" that Yang Zhuofei had spoken of had once been an advisor to Prince Yu, and his ability to enter the official sphere was entirely because of the Prince Yu's recommendation. She'd held onto the fantasy the entire time that it was that Warden, and thought that he would recall old acts of kindness, and at the very least, would allow her life in prison to be a bit better.

But what Yang Zhuofei didn't know was that, while she'd been single-mindedly focused on devising a way to allow Jiang Mingyou to inherit the position of Prince Yu, this Warden Zhou had long since been stripped of his official's robes, and been imprisoned in the very place he'd overseeing.

The sudden shock caused Yang Zhuofei to return to silence; she no longer struggled, nor did she keep questioning, only obediently walking forward.

Yang Zhuofei had never been a fool; the imprisonment of these past few days had allowed her to see some things clearly. In these days, she'd received almost no news from the outside world, and perhaps even Han Yu had met some unexpected obstacles. Right now, the only person she could rely on was herself.

Suddenly, the jailer stopped walking, and Yang Zhuofei raised her head as if resigned. She had assumed she'd be locked into a place whose environment was even worse, but what greeted her eyes was entirely different from what she'd expected.

There weren't massive rats, nor was there mouldering straw. What there was was a wide cell, a simple wooden bed, and even the ground had been swept clean. Besides the still-remaining palm-width window, it was no different from a room lived in by commoners outside.

Yang Zhuofei was a bit shocked. "This princess is going to live here?"

The jailer shot her a look, somewhat disdainful, and scoffed, "You're still not satisfied? You really did live in finery too long."

"Why?" Yang Zhuofei pressed. "Why would you bring this princess here?"

"What's with all the why's!" The jailer was clearly out of patience, and she unlocked her shackles and forcefully shoved Yang Zhuofei inside. "I want to know why you're staying here as well—you're asking me, but who should I go ask, then?"

The jailer couldn't be blamed for her anger; after all, she'd worked assiduously all along, and had never committed any errors. The furnishings of her house now were only barely at the standard of this jail cell.

Everyone was selfish, and if she weren't envious, that would have been strange.

Yang Zhuofei finally sat down on the bed she'd been separated from for so long once more; though this bed was far from as soft as the one where she'd lived before, it was worlds away from the straw of the jail cell of before.

Her mind had been on edge for far too long, and as soon as she was in this slightly more stable place, Yang Zhuofei felt a wave of tiredness engulf her from all sides. Her eyelids grew heavier and heavier, but she used her nails to stab deep into her skin to force herself to be a bit more sober.

Unusual events had to have an origin; she'd committed the greatest crime of rebellion, and no matter what, she ought not be in such a place. But right now, she really was here, and in a flash, countless conjectures rose in her mind.

Could it be that Han Yu hadn't died? But the people who'd received Prince Yu's manor's favour had all scattered, and even if she were even more able, she was only a single mail from Prince Yu's manor; how could she have the capability to extend her hand into the Imperial Prison?

Wu Dongmu and Liu Zihe, at this time, were probably too busy with themselves to be concerned with her, and more than that, such selfish and stupid people probably wouldn't risk themselves to help her like this.

Then who could it be?

Countless names and faces flashed in Yang Zhuofei's mind, but none of them had the capability to do such a thing.

Who could it be, then?

Yang Zhuofei was still thinking, but as she thought, the exhaustion wrapping around her from all sides carried her into dreaming.

However, at just this moment, the person who'd been utterly forgotten by her was just facing a bowl of decoction giving off a bitter scent.

"Master," Qing An's eyes were filled with distress, "Feng-daozhang said this medicine harms the body—why don't we stop instead?"

Lin Yingqing's expression was still impassive, as if the person about to swallow down the bitter-scented decoction wasn't her. She merely shook her head and said, "I must drink it—how could I not? You've seen as well—the imperial physicians come one after another, and this little residence of ours can barely fit them. If I don't drink this medicine, how will I be able to fool the imperial physicians?"

Qing An gazed at Lin Yingqing's increasingly wan lips, and still wanted to dissuade her. "But—"

"There's no buts; if something were to happen to me, you wouldn't be able to get away either. If you want to live, quit obstructing me." The words that came out of Lin Yingqing's mouth were resolute, the next moment, she took that large decoction bowl from Qing An's hands. Raising her neck, she swallowed it down, her entire person as if having been drenched in suffering.

But in swallowing this decoction, she didn't even take any sweets with it.

Bang, the sound of the porcelain bowl being placed on the wooden table.

Bang, the sound of the door being rapped on.

Though Lin Yingqing wielded the might of the Minister of Revenue, as an official for so many years, she'd never been the slightest bit corrupt. She only rented such a small residence, and the main room and the front door were only separated by a single screen. If someone were to shout, even if one had been sitting in the main room, they'd be able to hear it clearly.

Qing An's expression changed rapidly, and she tactfully lowered her voice a bit as well. "How come they've come again!"

Lin Yingqing patted her shoulder, voice lowered as well. "Don't be like that—go on, go take a look; if it's people from the Palace, delay them a bit, and I'll deal with things here."

"Master—"

"Hurry up."

Lin Yingqing's sleeves were unsullied by corruption, and she only had Qing An as a maid in her residence. Naturally the two of them didn't have the distance of ordinary wealthy masters and their servants between them, more like two friends who'd been with each other for a long while.

Turning around, the bitterness still pervaded her mouth. Lin Yingqing was considerate and honest towards others, and in this lifetime, she hadn't ever mistreated anyone. The only time she'd used her power for selfish ends had been in order to repay a past kindness. And the only thing that caused her regret was regretting that she'd been born at the wrong time.

If she'd been born a bit later, then that would have been good.

When Lin Yingqing opened her eyes once more, the skies had already brightened. The Imperial Prison didn't have a sundial, and so she had no way of knowing what time it was now. She only knew that she'd slept the only steady sleep in all these days just now.

All her hopes had disappeared, but on the contrary, there was nothing to be worried about anymore.

Within the wooden bars, an extra wooden tray had appeared, and the food on the tray had already grown cold. But even if it was cold, it was far better than that in the previous cell. The food had meat, and the grain had become thick rice.

The misgivings in Yang Zhuofei's mind grew deeper; she really couldn't guess who it was.

If there was a day when she really was able to get out, she'd have to thank them properly, Yang Zhuofei thought.

But just as she'd thought this, the sound of footsteps came from a distance. The footsteps were muddied, as if many people were coming together. But here was the Imperial Prison, and who would have the courage to dare to strut around like that? Except—

Except her majesty.

Barely any time later, Jiang Changbai, wearing everyday attired, unhurriedly walked into Yang Zhuofei's cell.

She looked about, and then laughed softly. "We really didn't know that there was even such a place in the Imperial Prison."

The Warden who'd followed behind Jiang Changbai had long since been frightened to a cold sweat. Jiang Changbai had come far too quickly, and by the time she'd gotten word, Jiang Changbai was already at the gates of the Imperial Prison. The Warden hadn't had the opportunity to stall for the time at all, and could only put on a bold face and bring Jiang Changbai here.

If I'd known her majesty were coming, I absolutely wouldn't have agreed to Lin-daren, the Warden thought to herself. At the same time, she was also praying, terrified that tomorrow, she'd be sent to accompany the previous Warden Zhou.

Yet Yang Zhuofei remained sitting on the bed, not having the slightest intent to make obeisance to Jiang Changbai. Jiang Changbai wasn't angered, only smiling softly as she mocked, "You're still taking yourself as Our elder?"

Meng Daosheng, who'd followed behind Jiang Changbai, understood the implication in Jiang Changbai's words immediately, and with a great stride, she pulled Yang Zhuofei off the bed. Meng Daosheng hated Yang Zhuofei far too greatly, and so even if she hadn't seen the slightest hint of her wanting to struggle, she still was still very forceful, the veins on her hands raised.

Yet Yang Zhuofei was like a cloth doll, allowing herself to be manipulated; if Meng Daosheng wanted her to kneel, she knelt, and if she wanted her to kowtow, she kowtowed, without resisting in the slightest. Meng Daosheng didn't drag her to her feet, so she remained prone, not moving an inch.

Jiang Changbai saw the situation, and coughed lightly. "Let go."

Meng Daosheng obediently retreated back behind Jiang Changbai. But before she'd stopped, she heard Jiang Changbai wave her hand and say, "Go on, all of you leave."

"But Bixia—" Meng Daosheng said, somewhat hesitantly.

"What 'but'? Do We need your opinions on everything We do?" Jiang Changbai said, insistent on persisting.

Meng Daosheng, having been criticised, didn't dare to say anything, and could only resentfully take the imperial guards to retreat. "We'll be close at hand; if Bixia needs anything, just call for us."

Only once they were at a distance did Meng Daosheng grow aware of something strange, and she turned to ask the Warden, "The state of the Imperial Prison is already so much better, aren't they? So how could she stay in such a place?"

"That…"

Yet the cell was an entirely different scene.

Jiang Changbai wasn't prideful in the slightest, and she sat calmly on the bed. "Quit acting, raise your head."

Yet Yang Zhuofei's head remained lowered. "This subject now resides in prison, all my assets and life held in your hands—how could I dare to act? If Bixia wishes to kill this subject, this subject wouldn't have the ability to resist."

It was like a fist striking cotton, and some dissatisfaction rose in Jiang Changbai's mind. Yang Zhuofei was far too good of an actor; no one would have been able to pick out the slightest mistake. Before, her facade of a loving mother worried for her son hadn't allowed anyone to guess that Jiang Mingyou had actually undergone the pain of bone-breaking rebirth at Prince Yu's manor. If not for the coroner's statement, perhaps no one in the world would have known.

And now, with Yang Zhuofei once more putting on a facade of despondence, as Jiang Changbai saw it, she felt even more like she still had some means of defence.

More than that…

Jiang Changbai scoffed. "No ability to resist? You're even able to live here, and you still tell Us you have no ability to resist—is it that you think Us a fool?"

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