A Maid Dressed As A Cannon Fodder Female Supporting Role (Transmigration) - Chapter 1

In her sleep, A Zhi felt a dull, burning ache in her head—especially around the upper left side of her forehead.

Her mind was hazy, like she was hovering at the edge of a dream she couldn’t quite wake from. No matter how hard she tried, her eyelids felt as if they’d been glued shut. Her limbs were so heavy she couldn’t lift a finger.

Am I… running a fever?

How unusual.

A Zhi had always been in excellent health. She was the top-ranking maid raised and trusted by Empress Dowager Dou herself—feared and respected by every palace woman. Even back when the Empress Dowager was still just the Noble Consort, A Zhi had been her closest servant. Over the years, she’d never once fallen ill—not a single headache or cold.

It was thanks to that strong body of hers that she’d managed to stick by her mistress’s side and fight her way through palace intrigue, eventually helping her rise above all others.

Just last year, Noble Consort Dou finally became Empress Dowager, and naturally, A Zhi’s status rose with her. She had become someone that even imperial concubines spoke to politely, some even secretly sending her gifts to curry favor.

For a servant, this was the absolute peak of success.

A Zhi figured maybe it was because she’d been holding everything together so tightly for years. Now that things were finally relaxed, her body was letting down its guard too.

Guess I’m getting old, she thought.

A Zhi, who had only just turned twenty, mused this without irony.

Still, her current status was nothing to scoff at. She didn’t need to slave away like when she first entered the palace. She could afford to slack off a little, sleep in, and maybe even fake an  illness to take a day off with her aunt’s permission.

Yes—Empress Dowager Dou was her biological aunt.

Unfortunately, A Zhi was an illegitimate child with a complicated background, never fit to be a proper lady of the house. Serving at her aunt’s side as a maid was the best she could hope for.

But she’d made something of herself now.

A faint smile tugged at A Zhi’s lips. She felt weightless.

In the decades to come, she would live comfortably in the palace—growing old in peace, tending flowers, and watching other people scheme and scramble. No need to worry about food or shelter, no threats to her life or wealth.

Ah… what a good life.

A peaceful, predictable future—something that once felt completely out of reach for a girl who’d suffered so much as a child—now brought her deep comfort. Her headache even seemed to fade a little.

But just as she was about to drift off into a deeper sleep, a soft voice murmured near her ear.

It was gentle and slow, laced with a slight sobbing tone. Sweet and sticky, like a warm piece of cake melting in her ears.

A Zhi frowned slightly. When did my courtyard get a new maid?

*****

Lying in bed, A Zhi’s face was pale. Her head was wrapped in white cloth, and near her hairline, the wound on her upper left forehead was still seeping bl00d. The faint red dots were soaking through the medicine, blooming like little stars—small but clearly serious.

She lay there unconscious, her breathing shallow, making her condition look even more worrisome.

Chao Mu sat beside her on a round embroidered stool, fingers clenched nervously in her lap. She stared unblinkingly at A Zhi.

“Why hasn’t A Zhi woken up yet…” she whispered.

Despite the soft, dragging tone of her voice and the streaks of tears across her cheeks, it was easy to mistake her as not being too concerned—if you only heard her speak and didn’t see her face.

She was draped in a white fox-fur cloak over a pink winter robe, her hair styled in a maiden’s bun, not yet of marriageable age. In that moment, she looked like a delicate painting—soft, fair, and graceful.

But now, this beautiful picture was all blotchy from crying.

Her bright almond-shaped eyes were red and puffy, her once-glowing face dulled with worry, and her lips chapped from stress. She looked utterly pitiful.

“Your Ladyship, please take care of your health,” the old physician at her side advised gently.

The physician had a daughter of his own, around the same age as the young lady—thirteen or fourteen at most. Seeing Chao Mu so heartbroken moved something in him.

He withdrew his hand after checking the pulse. “Her condition is stable, and the head wound isn’t life-threatening. She should regain consciousness in about half an hour.”

The physician sighed quietly. With a mistress this kind and concerned, that maid was truly fortunate.

There were plenty of maids from noble households who died without anyone shedding a single tear for them, but here was this girl, weeping so earnestly for her maid.

“A Zhi only got hurt because of me…” Chao Mu whispered, her heart heavy with guilt. She gently tucked the edge of the quilt beneath A Zhi’s body with trembling hands.

“You mustn’t think that way, Your Ladyship!”

A maid named Xiao Yan couldn’t help but jump in, her voice was rising slightly in panic. Her youthful pitch suddenly sounded sharp.

“A Zhi just slipped and fell, that’s all. It had nothing to do with you. She’s not some kind of hero trying to save her mistress—she wouldn’t even think of something like that, the fool.”

They were all just servants, after all, and none of them wanted A Zhi to win favor first.

Since returning from the Qi family estate in Jiangnan, the young mistress hadn’t brought a single trusted person with her. Now that she was in the capital, every new maid, including Xiao Yan, saw this as a chance to get close to the young mistress.

Even if General Qi and his wife had long kept their distance from Chao Mu, ignoring her for years, her royal bl00d was undeniable.

Whoever became her closest maid would have no trouble making a good life in this household.

That’s why the new girls were all sharpening their wits, desperate to get into Chao Mu’s good graces.

And with the mistress being so sweet and never harsh with her servants, it made the competition even fiercer.

Chao Mu frowned slightly, her voice still soft and gentle as she pointed out the truth,
“Even so, she still protected me. That’s the only reason I wasn’t hurt.”

If you looked closely, you could see a smudge of dirt on the hem of her delicate pink skirt. It was likely a  melted snow mixed with a bit of mud. It wasn’t very noticeable, but it was there.

Her voice was sweet and airy—not the kind to command a room—but her words were clear, calm, and hit right at the heart.

“It was you and Xiao Que fighting and pulling at each other that caused the collision. That’s why you ran into me and A Zhi.”

When she fell, A Zhi had already been knocked over by Xiao Yan and Xiao Que. A Zhi hit the ground first, and then Chao Mu fell right on top of her. It was because of that human cushion that Chao Mu wasn’t injured.

But A Zhi wasn’t so lucky.

It had snowed recently, and no one had gotten around to clearing the path. When A Zhi fell, the left side of her face slammed into a sharp stone hidden beneath the snow. Her face was spared, but her scalp was cut, leaving a cut that’s  nearly half a finger long.

The physician had even trimmed away the hair around the wound while dressing it.

Everyone knew that the body, skin, and hair were considered gifts from one’s parents—and girls especially prized their hair and appearance. Losing a chunk of it like that was not only painful but downright humiliating.

When A Zhi wakes up and sees what happened, she might just cry herself to death.

Xiao Yan pouted, rolling her eyes dramatically—taking advantage of the fact that she was standing behind Chao Mu and couldn’t be seen.

Crying? More like overjoyed.

A bit of hair for the young lady’s favor? A Zhi had hit the jackpot.

If she’d known this was all it took to win Chao Mu’s attention, Xiao Yan would’ve happily thrown herself into the snow.

She’d been in a quiet tug-of-war with Xiao Que for days now, and to think the one who reaped the benefits was someone completely unexpected.

A Zhi.

Everyone said she was simple. Since when could a dull, slow maid pull something like this?

Xiao Yan bit her lip in frustration, practically stomping her foot into the floor. Her gut twisted with regret.

If only she had realized A Zhi had this kind of deception, she wouldn’t have wasted her time only guarding against that scheming Xiao Que!

“Please forgive me, Your Ladyship. Xiao Que and I had never seen such heavy snow before… We got carried away playing. We never meant to bump into you. It’s all my fault.”

Xiao Yan knelt down as she spoke, her voice trembling with what sounded like remorse.

But deep down, she didn’t care at all.

Everyone in the household knew by now that Chao Mu had a soft heart. Gentle, docile, and never the type to scold or punish.

If she weren’t so mild-mannered, the maids wouldn’t have dared act so recklessly in the first place.

As expected, Chao Mu only glanced at her, lips pale and dry. Her long, thick lashes lowered slowly, hiding her expression. Then, in a barely audible voice, she said,

“I’ll let it go this time… but once A Zhi wakes up, you both owe her a proper apology.”

Xiao Yan swallowed her resentment and lowered her head in submission. “Yes, Your Ladyship.”

Their entire exchange fell into the ears of the old physician, who was now calmly seated at a side table, writing a prescription. His eyes remained lowered, as if he hadn’t seen or heard a thing.

A man of humble birth had no place to comment on the messy affairs of a noble household.

Still, he couldn’t help but think to himself: The hearts of the Qi family are clearly not as “neat and orderly” as their name implies.

It was common knowledge that the young Lady Chao Mu had been raised at the old Qi family estate in Jiangnan. You would think that, now that she was back in the capital to stay, she would bring along a few trusted maids or servants.

But no.

She returned alone. Not a single familiar face accompanied her.

That was one reason the maids were scrambling for power.

The other reason? Their background.

Chao Mu was the only daughter of the late Grand Princess and the youngest child of General Qi. She lost her mother when she was young, and His Majesty, out of love and pity, had granted her the title of “County Princess” when she was still a baby, giving her the imperial surname Chao along with the title Fujia.

To make her feel protected, the emperor had even betrothed her—at just one month old—to the youngest son of the Noble Consort, the Sixth Prince, Chao Hongji, who was only two years old at the time.

The plan was for them to marry once Chao Mu came of age and became the Sixth Princess Consort.

With a background like that, her future should’ve been smooth sailing.

She should have grown up under the double protection of the imperial palace and the Qi family. But due to the general’s long-term stationing on the northern frontier and the harsh environment there, he didn’t want his delicate young daughter to suffer. So he had her raised by his mother, the elderly Madam Qi, in Jiangnan.

Now, at fourteen, with her coming-of-age ceremony less than a year away, Chao Mu had finally returned to the capital.

Outsiders assumed she was here to spend time with her future husband, the Sixth Prince—to build affection ahead of marriage.

In truth, she was sent back early to prepare for palace life: to learn the rules and etiquette necessary for her future as a proper royal consort.

Despite that, she wasn’t staying in the palace but at the Qi residence.

And it just so happened that both General Qi and his wife were away from the capital. The entire household was being managed by the steward in their absence—effectively, the estate had no true master.

Without a host, the estate hadn’t needed many servants. But now that Chao Mu had returned, the steward had quickly gone out and bought new maids to serve her.

Normally, when choosing maids for a noble young lady, they would look for girls from clean, modest families—quiet and obedient, ideally with no experience in other households.

That way, the maids would be easier to mold and wouldn’t have the arrogance or cunning that sometimes came with experience.

But the steward of the Qi family had done the opposite. He brought in all experienced maids—his reasoning being that they would already know how to serve a master and wouldn’t need to be trained.

Xiao Yan and the previously mentioned Xiao Que were the two most “experienced” among them and also the most difficult. Neither of them backed down from the other.

At fifteen or sixteen, they practically wore their ambitions on their sleeves.

The physician had treated many officials and seen all kinds of household staff in his day, but never had he seen handmaids yanking each other’s hair in the snow, causing their mistress to be thrown to the ground.

Only in the Qi residence, he thought.

Chao Mu had just returned to the capital. She was soft-spoken, kind, and completely without a single trustworthy servant by her side…

The physician let out a long sigh.

How on earth is she supposed to handle this group of little monsters?