A Maid Dressed As A Cannon Fodder Female Supporting Role (Transmigration) - Chapter 13

A’Zhi finished grinding the ink for Chao Mu, so there was no need for her to stay and assist further.

With a bow, she excused herself and stepped out of the study. As she exited the courtyard, she waved over to Cui Cui. “Help me find a net.”

Cui Cui had originally been assigned to sweeping duties in the front courtyard, but just today, A’Zhi had reassigned her to the young princess’s courtyard to replace Xiao Yan and Xiao Que.

Later, the second pair of “spectators” arrived in front of the large, pitch-black water vat.

Cui Cui peeked inside, holding the net with curiosity written all over her round little face. “There aren’t any fish in here, A’Zhi. What are you trying to catch?”

Of course there weren’t any fish.

“I’m fishing out my loyalty,” A’Zhi muttered… and what’s left of my dignity.

“Huh? What?”

“A lychee.”

Cui Cui scooped around for a while before finally retrieving a single, red-skinned lychee from the bottom of the net.

The water was already cold in winter and even colder once it was stored in the vat. When she got the lychee, it felt like a block of ice in her hand.

Just like A’Zhi’s loyalty, icy cold.

“A lychee?” Cui Cui was intrigued. She leaned in again. “Maybe there’s more?”

“Nope. Just this one.” One moment of humiliation was more than enough. She wasn’t about to go for a second.

A’Zhi looked at the frosty lychee in her palm, a mischievous glint flickering in her eyes.

She patted Cui Cui’s shoulder. “Wait for me by the study door.”

By the time she stepped back into the study, her expression had returned to its usual calm. With her hands folded politely at her abdomen, back straight, she walked in with measured steps.

Chao Mu sat at her desk, pen in hand, her long lashes lowered as she carefully wrote each stroke. She didn’t even look up when she heard A’Zhi enter.

“Princess, the lychees have been warmed in hot water. Would you like one now?” A’Zhi asked.

There were still ten lychees left on the plate. They were too cold to eat directly, so she’d soaked them in warm water just enough to take the chill off. They weren’t exactly hot, but at least they wouldn’t freeze one’s teeth.

“Hmm? Okay,” Chao Mu mumbled distractedly, clearly not paying much attention.

A’Zhi lowered her gaze, slipped one lychee from the plate into her sleeve, and quietly replaced it with the icy one she’d just fished out. Then, without a trace of guilt on her face, she turned the plate slightly and offered it to Chao Mu.

“If there’s nothing else, Princess, I’ll wait outside,” she said gently.

Chao Mu gave a nod. “Alright.”

Still reading her invitation drafts, she didn’t even glance up. She simply reached for a spoon, scooped up a lychee, and popped it whole into her mouth.

The sweet flavor made her cheeks puff up on one side, her eyes curling into a contented smile.

A’Zhi turned her eyes away, suddenly feeling guilty. She quickly bowed and retreated to the door.

Once there, she quietly pulled the hidden lychee from her sleeve and motioned to Cui Cui outside. When Cui Cui came over, she placed the lychee in her hand. “A gift from the Princess. Have a taste.”

Technically, it was a reward from the princess—just one from earlier.

Cui Cui blinked in surprise for a second, then her face lit up as she cupped the warm fruit tightly with both hands. “Thank you, A’Zhi.”

No one had ever treated her so kindly before. Especially not in a way that made her feel seen and remembered, and for such a rare treat, no less.

The warmth in her chest burned hotter than the lychee in her hands, making her voice tremble slightly.

She would do her absolute best assisting A’Zhi in organizing the upcoming banquet. She’d make sure that anyone hoping to see A’Zhi fail would have to eat their words.

All it took was one lychee to earn Cui Cui’s unwavering loyalty!

A’Zhi, catching the subtle shift in Cui Cui’s expression, gave a small smile, half amused, half resigned. “Back to work, now.”

This silly, wide-eyed girl reminded her of herself when she first entered the palace. Timid, naive, unaware of palace schemes but still capable of gratitude.

A’Zhi now looked at her the way an older sister might look at a younger one, her expression filled with quiet fondness.

But that warm expression vanished in an instant when a soft “Ow” echoed from the study.

A’Zhi stiffened, straightened her posture at the door, and perked up her ears while sneaking a glance inside.

The little princess had eaten the icy lychee.

Chao Mu had bitten straight into it, and the cold nearly made her teeth fall out. Her entire face crumpled as she tried to spit it out but decided it would be wasteful, so she just held it on her tongue, waiting for it to warm up.

Her almond-shaped eyes, now misty from the chill, drifted toward the doorway.

Outside, the figure in soft green robes stood tall and composed, her posture impeccable, not a hint of guilt showing.

Chao Mu gave a little grunt and turned away, slowly chewing the lychee, picking up her fallen brush, and starting a new invitation draft.

When the room went quiet again, A’Zhi finally allowed her lips to curl ever so slightly. Then she lowered her long lashes once more, brushing her fingertips together in restraint.

She had never dared do anything like this when serving her previous masters. No matter how high her position rose, before her aunt had become Empress Dowager, she had lived every day in the palace, walking on eggshells. Always cautious, always calculating, always afraid a misstep might cost her life, or worse, her mistress’s favor.

That instinct was why she’d reached into the vat herself to retrieve the lychee.

It was her servant’s mindset.

But the little princess seemed different. She wasn’t like the others.

She would joke with her. And when A’Zhi did something unexpected, something that wasn’t “in character”—she wouldn’t expose her. She’d give her room to breathe, a firm footing in this precarious, unfamiliar world.

Maybe that was why, along with the memory of the princess brushing lip rouge onto her and placing a plum blossom in her hair that morning, A’Zhi had felt bold enough to switch the lychees just to see how the princess would react. She wanted to test the boundaries of the stable ground beneath her.

It was risky, yes. But as long as she still held value, A’Zhi figured she could afford to try.

If the little princess had scolded her or forced a smile to hide her anger, then A’Zhi would’ve known her place. From then on, she would act the perfect maid and never step out of line again. Once her goals were met, she would leave. No extra thoughts, no emotional entanglements.

A part of her even hoped for that outcome.

Compared to vague promises and uncertain emotions, A’Zhi trusted in clear value and tangible returns.

“A’Zhi,” came a muffled voice from the study.

A’Zhi took a deep breath, lowered her head to compose her expression, then stepped inside and bowed. “Princess.”

Chao Mu looked up at her, cheeks puffed on both sides, almond eyes round and full. She looked exactly like an angry little goldfish.

A’Zhi kept her lips pressed tight, terrified she might accidentally laugh.

Chao Mu lifted her hand and passed over the brush. When she spoke, air hissed from the side of her mouth, leaving one cheek still puffed. “You write this one.”

A’Zhi blinked in surprise and accepted the brush. “Me?”

Chao Mu stood and moved to the seat beside her, resting her chin on one hand, looking at A’Zhi with a long-suffering gaze. “My teeth are frozen. I can’t write anything.”

What did frozen teeth have to do with writing?

Besides…

A’Zhi glanced at the invitation laid out on the desk. You already finished one full draft before your teeth froze, didn’t you?

Feigning ignorance, she stared down at the brush and replied dutifully, “Then I hope you won’t mind how ugly my writing is, Princess.”

The content of the invitations was the same; only the names differed.

A’Zhi took the princess’s seat and looked up at the partially written invitation, then paused. Suddenly, she understood.

This little honey-cake had “gotten back at her” in the gentlest way possible.

A’Zhi bit her lip to stop herself from smiling.

All she had to do was copy the main text. Later, Chao Mu would add in the names.

With her chin propped on both hands, Chao Mu sat beside her, lazily enjoying the lychee and watching A’Zhi write. She gave a soft call, “A’Zhi”

“Hmm?” A’Zhi turned slightly to look at her.

Chao Mu’s eyes curved into crescents, dimples showing faintly. Her voice was light and sweet. “This one might’ve been cold… but it’s really sweet.”

Maybe because it had stayed in her mouth the longest, Chao Mu thought it was the sweetest of them all.

A’Zhi’s face remained blank, but her ears turned bright red with guilt. As she bent over to write, her head was full of regret: I’m guilty. I’m so, so guilty. 

Once the invitations were done, the servants began delivering them around the capital. A’Zhi counted—there were more than ten!

And every guest was a noblewoman from a prestigious household—families of at least fourth rank or higher.

A’Zhi was stunned. Were all these ladies childhood friends of the princess?

She hadn’t expected this little sweetcake to be such a social butterfly.

Eight-petaled plum blossom, indeed.