"How mysterious… I was under the impression that you couldn't read from what I heard."
"Yes, I am of humble birth. Maybe there was a mistake?"
(As if I would tell anyone.)
Is what she wanted to exclaim but didn't.
There was a difference in the treatment of maids who could read, and maids who couldn't. Though each were useful in their different ways, it was easier to go about pretending to be ignorant.
The beautiful eunuch was called Jishin.
Even though he had an elegant smile that couldn't kill even an insect, she somehow felt like a squirming thing. If it wasn't for him, Maomao wouldn't be standing here with this dilemma like so.
Jishin told her to be quiet and follow him.
She, the disposable lowly maidservant, had no choice but to meekly follow him, feeling lightheaded to the point that if she shook her head it would fly. Her mind spun. What will happen after this? How would she properly deal with it?
Though it wasn't that she could think up the reason as to why Jishin was leading her like this, why he exposed that was a mystery.
About the messages she sent to the consorts.
She studied the piece of cloth in Jishin's hand. There was messy and awkwardly written text on it.
She did not tell anyone that she could write. She was also silent about her pharmaceutical knowledge of poisons. Needless to say, there was no way people would recognise her handwriting.
Although she confirmed her surroundings when she placed it, she was probably seen by someone.
The criterion was for a short maid with freckles.
For starters, no doubt he gathered the ones who could write first, and gathered their handwriting. Altered handwriting would still leave behind distinguishing traces.
If there was no person among the group that matched the criteria, he would then gather those who couldn't write.
The judgement on whether they could read or not was as before.
(What a skeptical person. Rather, he has too much free time.)
They arrived at their destination as she mentally slandered him.
As she thought, it was the palace where Consort Gyokuyou resided.
When Jishin struck the door, a cold voice answered with a short "Come in."
There was a red-haired beauty lovingly holding a baby wrapped in a soft blanket when they walked inside.
They heard the cute sounds of her sleeping, her lips slightly parted. She was the very picture of health.
"I arrive with the person."
"Thank you for the hard work you have done."
It wasn't the same broken-down voice from before.
Her speech and conduct made one know their place.
Maomao lowered her head as Consort Gyokuyou gave her yet a different warm smile to the one she gave Jishin.
Maomao widened her eyes, surprised.
"I can’t receive this type of treatment from someone who outranks me."
She stated that, choosing polite words.
"No. My gratitude goes beyond that. You are this baby's benefactor."
"This must be some kind of mistake. Surely you got the wrong person."
She broke into cold sweat.
She didn't want to be decapitated, but she also didn't want to be involved in this. She didn't want to get entangled in a long incident.
Consort Gyokuyou made a slightly troubled expression. Jishin, who noticed that, displayed the flapping piece of cloth.
"Did you know that this is the cloth used for the work clothes of maids?"
"Now that you mention it, it looks similar."
She played dumb to the very end.
Even though it was pointless.
"Indeed. There are working clothes are used by maids."
Palace officials were separated into six responsibilities. Those in charge of clothes wore working clothes; Maomao who oversaw washing duty was placed into there.
The unbleached skirt was the same colour as the cloth in Jishin was holding.
In short, the evidence was there.
She didn't think that Jishin would do rude show before Consort Rifa, but she was left with nothing else she could do.
She had no choice but to prepare herself for the worst.
"What would you suppose I do?"
She got a positive feeling when the two looked at each other.
They both smiled warmly, eyes crinkling.
Under the sounds of the sleeping breath of the restful baby, Maomao, who wanted to disappear, made a small sigh.
–
The next day, Maomao packed her meagre belongings.
Shaoran and her room mates were all jealous.
They chased her down with questions on how it happened.
Maomao, with a dry smile, had no choice but to evade it.
Maomao became the personal maid of the emperor's beloved consort.