The task of transmitting imperial edicts to titled ladies originally belonged to the Speech Office of the Bureau of Palace Administration. They were the group who most frequently left the palace – sometimes delivering rewards from the Empress Dowager, sometimes relaying messages for the favored consorts – and the households receiving them would certainly never stint on offering some benefits.
In short, there was plenty of grease to be had, and it was legal income besides.
But when Cheng Danruo intercepted this assignment, no one was jealous. Word traveled fast in the palace – who didn’t know that Shandong now had rebel forces, and that even Prince Lu had been killed?
Palace Matron Hong summoned her over, hesitated repeatedly, then shook her head and said pointedly, “I see that even if I wanted to stop you, I couldn’t.”
Cheng Danruo said, “Thank you for your concern. I am willing to go.”
“You are still young.” Having experienced the Princess Rong’an affair, Palace Matron Hong had come to understand her temperament and no longer pretended coldness to avoid suspicion. She spoke earnestly, “The years in the palace are long, and there aren’t many assignments. Why rush for a moment?”
“I’m not doing this for promotion.” Cheng Danruo was perfectly clear-headed. “Two promotions in one year – if not for Wang San-niang’s dazzling precedent, I’d have attracted envy long ago.”
Shanggon Hong asked, “Then why?”
Cheng Danruo was silent for a moment, then said slowly, “The palace is wealthy and comfortable. Though the life of a female official is arduous, the Empress Dowager is kind and the favored consort is wise – the days are not hard to endure.”
Each reign’s palace maids have their own fate.
Meeting a cruel emperor, palace people could be killed at a moment’s notice, everyone living in fear. But the palace people of this reign had decent fates; life was still bearable.
Her luck was good – perhaps she could live out her years in peace.
“But that is not what I want.” Cheng Danruo paused, then asked in return, “You are from a distinguished family, the widow of a great man – you could have lived out your days in leisure. Why did you enter the palace?”
Palace Matron Hong was from the Hong clan of Henan, a powerful local family, and the husband she had married was also from a distinguished local clan. By rights, even as a widow, with her natal family backing her, her husband’s family would have had to treat her with respect and would not have given her much grief.
But she had abandoned a comfortable life to come and serve as a female official – it was impossible that she had no strong sense of purpose in life.
Sure enough, when Palace Matron Hong heard this answer, she fell silent
After a long while, she sighed. “Very well. Be careful yourself.”
“There is one thing I would ask of you.”
“Sure.”
Cheng Danruo said, “I am very fond of my duties at the Hall of Peace and Joy. Please permit me to arrange for someone to take over, and when I return, to continue in that post.”
“That I can grant – after all, apart from you, no one covets the work at the Hall of Peace and Joy,” said Palace Matron Hong. “Now that you are in charge of the medicine storehouse, you need not be overly cautious – prepare some medicinal herbs to take with you. Plague has been rampant in Shandong for months; herbs may be hard to buy even with money.”
Cheng Danruo nodded. “Yes.”
After leaving Palace Matron Hong, she went without pause to make arrangements at the Hall of Peace and Joy.
After months of management, even crafty, lazy types like Matron Le had become docile and well-behaved. Together with the other palace maids and eunuchs, they stood with heads bowed in the courtyard, waiting to be addressed.
“I will be leaving for Shandong shortly and will likely be absent from the palace for several months,” Cheng Danruo said. “All matters at the Hall of Peace and Joy will be handled on my behalf by a new female scribe, with Ji Qiu assisting in supervision.”
The substitute female scribe she had chosen was the fastest learner among her students and was already able to take pulses. Ji Qiu, who had been coordinating miscellaneous affairs from the very beginning, could help manage most matters.
“Whenever a patient is brought in, follow what I have said: first take the pulse. For mild cases, prescribe medicine; for serious cases, have them stay with their own bedding. Except for those with stomach complaints, do not skimp on the three daily meals of plain congee and light dishes.
“For anyone with persistent vomiting or diarrhea, they must be given salt-and-sugar water every day. If someone has unabating high fever, remember to apply cold cloths to bring down their temperature. All patients’ utensils must be boiled in water for a quarter of an hour.
“Those responsible for emptying the chamber pots and handling patients’ waste must wear face cloths and wash their hands carefully afterward. Soap and mutton tallow are to be charged to the accounts, but must not be taken home for private use. The monthly quota is fixed at this amount – if anyone secretly hoards it, everyone else will go without. If illness results, you will carry the guilt for a lifetime, and no amount of scripture recitation will undo it.
“Regarding patients’ money: what should be collected may be collected, but keep your hands off what should not be taken. If you have the life to earn money, you had best also have the life to spend it.
“…I have written all these matters on paper. Ji Qiu will post it in the hall shortly -everyone must commit it to memory.”
Cheng Danruo tried to cover everything as comprehensively as possible; how much people took in would be up to heaven’s will.
After arranging matters at the Hall of Peace and Joy, she had to prepare her own travel pack.
The medicines for her own use were easy enough to deal with – antibiotics were more or less effective for the most troublesome diseases, and what she mainly prepared were emergency medicines for unexpected needs.
The most important: hemostatic agents, bandages, alcohol-soaked cotton, and anesthetic.
Hemostatic agents and anesthetics both had ready-made formulas. Whenever Cheng Danruo had idle time, she would mix up a batch and test it on purchased rabbits to see which worked better.
She had not extracted much alcohol – first, because buying liquor in the palace was very expensive; second, because the distillation experiments had been bumpy and not particularly successful, and to date she had only one small bottle.
Porcelain bottles broke easily, and carrying alcohol on her person was unsafe, so she bought cotton cloth, cut it into small pieces, washed and dried them, then soaked them in alcohol to make a bottle of alcohol-soaked cotton.
She placed all of these in a sturdy medicine chest, lined with thin cotton wadding to cushion against shock.
Yet although the medicines were precious, there was something even more precious on this trip.
The imperial edict.
One could lose one’s head, but the imperial edict must not be lost; otherwise it would be better to lose one’s own head first.
In addition, she had to bring her official robes for reading the edict aloud, and a hand warmer, fur robe, cloak, and hooded wind cap – none could be omitted. Traveling on official business in the dead of winter required preparation against the cold.
After three days of bustle, she was urged to set off.
Female officials traveled by blue-curtained sedan chairs or carriages, roughly comparable to the family members of officials below the sixth rank.
As for comfort… one could only say it was passable.
The official vehicle dispatched by the palace was of decent quality – simply decorated but solidly built – and had an added layer of blue silk as a special favor for female officials.
It was just that the lighting was not very good.
The weather was growing colder, and the curtains, made to block the wind, were very thick, leaving the interior dim.
Cheng Danruo sat patiently inside the carriage for about half an hour. Judging that they had already left the imperial city, she immediately lifted a corner and observed the outside through the gap.
The buildings outside looked somewhat familiar.
She was puzzling over this when the carriage suddenly turned into a lane and gradually came to a stop.
Xi Que was waiting there holding a bundle. Seeing the carriage stop, she hurriedly handed over the large bundle and came close to the carriage window.
“Miss.”
Cheng Danruo raised the curtain – carriages of this kind had two layers: the outer gauze screen kept out dust and insects, while the inner layer blocked the wind. “What instructions do my adoptive father and mother have?”
“The master said to tell you to be careful on this trip. In the bundle are food and medicines prepared by the madam – she said you must take good care of yourself,” Xi Que relayed briskly.
Cheng Danruo felt a warmth in her heart. “I understand. Give my thanks to both of them.”
Xi Que asked, “Do you have any message to leave, Miss?”
Cheng Danruo shook her head. “Go back. Just say that I am well in every way, and ask my adoptive father and mother not to worry.”
“Yes.” Xi Que curtsied and stepped back.
The carriage began to move again.
Another hour passed, and the carriage drove through the city gate into the suburban area of the capital.
Buildings and signs of habitation abruptly thinned out, and vast stretches of farmland came into view. On the barely flat official road, many common folk could be seen coming and going – their skin rough and dark, some carrying shoulder poles, others riding in mule carts, travel-worn and dusty, all in drab, muted colors.
Seeing the carriage escorted by guards, they all instinctively kept their distance, and only a few neatly dressed people gave it a second glance.
The sound of hooves never ceased, kicking up clouds of dust.
She had to lower the curtain to avoid eating dust the whole way.
The roads near the capital were still fairly flat, and sitting in the carriage was tolerable. Bored, Cheng Danruo took out some thread and began tying knots, tying knots, tying knots.
After her routine practice, she watched two more episodes of an online course on plagues.
And then… there was nothing to do but stare blankly.
When she had entered the capital, she could still chat and play chess with Yan Hongzhi. Now, sitting alone in the carriage, there was nothing to do but stare into space and doze off.
She finally endured until noon, when the carriage stopped at a roadside pavilion.
Cheng Danruo could hardly wait to lift the curtain. Seeing the guards dismounting to rest, she too got out of the carriage to stretch her limbs.
Over the vast fields, a few village households could be faintly seen. Beside the pavilion meant for travelers to rest, two tea stalls had been set up – one selling tea, the other selling hot cakes.
Xie Xuanying was feeding his horse.
His horse was truly unusually handsome.
“Miss Cheng,” Li Bowu, who had traveled with her before, came over carrying a teapot. “Do you have a cup?”
Cheng Danruo said at once, “I do.”
She took out a flat flask wrapped in a layer of cotton wadding as an insulating sleeve. “Pour it in here.”
Li Bowu poured her some hot water, then added, “There’s no proper restaurant out in the wilds – only a few kinds of flaky pastries.”
“That’s no matter. I can eat them.” She was not picky.
“Good.” Li Bowu agreed and bought a little of each.
As Cheng Danruo ate a steaming meat bun, she could not help feeling that he was far more careful and considerate than he had been in Jiangnan.
Was it because she now counted as a royal civil servant that he had become so respectful?
Li Bowu had spent years traveling and was experienced. He quickly settled everyone in, and then, instead of rushing to eat, he chatted and exchanged pleasantries with several unfamiliar guards. Before long, bursts of laughter rang out.
Cheng Danruo stood in the shade beside the carriage, observing them.
Some of the group were familiar to her – Guards of the Xie household she had dealt with before – but there were not many of them, only twenty. The other thirty-odd were soldiers in armor.
Centurion Zheng was among them as well.
In addition, four young, strong eunuchs stood guard beside another carriage. They were eunuchs of the Inner Carriage Storehouse, responsible for escorting the rewards the Emperor had bestowed on the Princess Dowager.
They did not have Cheng Danruo’s good fortune of sitting alone in a carriage; the four were squeezed together talking, all with rather flat expressions.
After resting for half an hour, once the horses had drunk water and eaten feed, they set off again.
The afternoon’s journey was even more tedious than the morning’s.
Cheng Danruo simply took a nap, catching up on sleep to restore her energy.
At about four in the afternoon, they arrived at the Yantai Post Station.
As a post station near the capital, it was always packed with people. The postmaster received Cheng Danruo’s travel tally – a special credential for staying at post stations free of charge, stating her work unit, destination, and the assignment for this trip.
A sixth-rank female official was of course not worth paying attention to. But the postmaster, who had spent years receiving and seeing off travelers, had extremely sharp eyes. Seeing that the guards accompanying her were all fully armed with fine clothing and were clearly not to be trifled with, he knew this was no simple matter.
He freed up several good rooms as best he could for them to stay in.
The group quickly divided up the rooms: the eunuchs in one, Cheng Danruo in one, Xie Xuanying in one, and the leading centurions and Li Bowu and the others sharing rooms two or three to a room.
Then came feeding the horses, ordering food, moving luggage, and laying out bedding.
Cheng Danruo was tidying her bed when Xie Xuanying knocked on her door.
She opened it. “What is it?”
“There is a matter to discuss,” he said. “Could you come over for a moment?”
Cheng Danruo picked up the small bundle beside her, which contained the imperial edict – something she would not let out of her grasp even to use the latrine. “Of course.”
Xie Xuanying turned and led the way.
In his room, three people were already seated: Li Bowu, Centurion Zheng, and an unfamiliar military officer.
“This is Commander Wu,” Xie Xuanying introduced briefly. “There are some matters to discuss with everyone.”
Commander Wu was very courteous. “Please speak, General.”
Xie Xuanying was leading troops on campaign, so he naturally could no longer use his original official post. The Emperor had promoted him one rank to Assistant Regional Commander. This was mostly a general officer in charge of a single route; though it carried no formal rank, by convention it was the third position below the Regional Commander and Deputy Regional Commander.
The current Regional Commander of Shandong was the Marquis of Changping, who had fought the pirates, and the Deputy Regional Commander was a Regional Military Commissioner. This title already made the Emperor’s implication quite clear.
Commander Wu was a mid-level officer of the Divine Pivot Camp. When the Emperor was looking for someone, he had casually picked one with a decent record and no obvious backing, and chose him. Wu was well aware that he was merely a deputy and could not possibly oppose the arrangement.
“On this trip to Yanzhou, I hope to act in secret,” Xie Xuanying said bluntly. “Since the bandits dared to abduct Prince Lu, if they learn of our movements, there may be trouble, which would hinder our investigation.”
Commander Wu had been thinking the same thing – if they openly announced they were sent by the court, being watched would be a real problem.
“You are right.” He agreed at once. “Why don’t we disguise ourselves and travel as a merchant caravan?”
