A Maid Dressed As A Cannon Fodder Female Supporting Role (Transmigration) - Chapter 14

Upon hearing that the young Princess Chao Mu was planning a banquet, the palace, although not summoning her to court, still sent over a generous amount of gifts, a gesture meant to show favor and affection.

A’Zhi, accompanied by Cui Cui, was busy tallying the items sent from the palace. Her hands didn’t stop recording, but her mind was elsewhere.

Something’s off. Way off. Why didn’t the palace summon Chao Mu?

Chao Mu was the only daughter of the Grand Princess, the emperor’s legitimate niece, the future daughter-in-law of a favored concubine, and the intended consort of the Sixth Prince. She was granted the title of Princess at birth and given the name “Fu Jia” by the emperor himself. When you added all that up, there wasn’t a single girl in the entire Da Dynasty who could compare. Logically, the royal family should have shown her the utmost care and affection.

Now that she had returned from Jiangnan and was living alone in the capital, the royal family should have had her move into the palace to stay. That would have been the typical imperial protocol.

But in reality? The royal family had simply left her to stay at the Qi Estate and allowed her to interact with that scheming Qi Shilei, who pretended to be a fool while secretly playing at strategy.

A’Zhi didn’t believe for a second that the scheming minds within the palace couldn’t see through Qi Shilei’s act.

And now, even when they learned Chao Mu was hosting a banquet, they sent gifts but didn’t invite her into the palace.

On the surface, sending gifts and summoning someone to court might seem similar in intent but they conveyed very different messages.

Both actions acknowledged her noble status and the favor she supposedly enjoyed, but only a summons would signify genuine intimacy and importance.

Could it be that Chao Mu had been away from the capital so long she’d grown distant from the court?

But no matter how distant, she was still the emperor’s bl00d niece.

A’Zhi turned a page, her thoughts multitasking. Could this unclear attitude from the palace be the reason the Sixth Prince dared to flirt with other women despite being engaged? Was he following orders from above?

Otherwise, how could he be so bold?

A’Zhi had been in the palace for years and knew how things really worked. If the emperor truly held Princess Chao Mu in high regard, the Sixth Prince would have at least put on a convincing act of affection. He wouldn’t dare show his true colors until the emperor passed away and the throne changed hands.

So the only conclusion was that the emperor’s attitude toward Chao Mu was… ambiguous. This uncertainty had trickled down the hierarchy.

But Chao Mu was the daughter of his beloved younger sister, a girl who lost her mother young, and not a boy with any claim to the throne. She should have been the perfect figure for the emperor to use to demonstrate familial affection or to project grief and sentimentality.

Yet reality wasn’t lining up with what A’Zhi expected.

Something’s definitely off.

The emperor’s stance was strange.

It couldn’t be called neglect, but it certainly wasn’t wholehearted affection either. It was as if he were holding a hot hand-warmer either too far away, making it cold, or too close, causing it to burn. In the end, he settled for occasionally brushing against it, neither close nor distant.

A’Zhi wondered if her sweet little Princess could sense all this. And if she did, how would she feel?

She didn’t know what exactly the emperor was weighing in his mind, but compared to him, a man in his fifties, well-versed in manipulation and calculation, her little Fu Jia was only fourteen, no matter how cunning her heart might be.

She was still just a young girl.

A’Zhi frowned slightly. The servant standing before her immediately froze, holding his breath, thinking something had gone terribly wrong.

A’Zhi was known for her cold demeanor. She rarely showed emotion, and even during the flurry of recent preparations, she’d kept a calm and composed expression. So now, seeing her suddenly frown while staring at the account book? It had to mean something serious.

The servant was panicking. He couldn’t think of anything he might have done wrong.

“Is something the matter?” he finally gathered the courage to ask.

A’Zhi snapped back to the present, pulling herself out of her thoughts about the princess and the royal family. “No, nothing’s wrong.”

“Alright. Take all these items over,” she said as she closed the account book and began instructing the servants.

As they walked, she reminded Cui Cui, “Before the banquet starts tomorrow, keep a close eye on all the fruit and floral arrangements. Especially anything edible. There can’t be the slightest mistake, understand?”

Cui Cui nodded. “Got it. I’ll oversee it personally.”

She’d seen A’Zhi take charge of everything, from the flowers in the courtyard to the seating arrangements for guests and even where their carriages should park. Not a single detail was left to someone else. Cui Cui couldn’t help but feel concerned.

“A’Zhi, I noticed the steward’s attendant has come by several times offering help. He seems eager. Why don’t you let them take on a bit of the load? You’re doing so much on your own.”

The attendant she mentioned was Zhi Yuan.

He had indeed offered several times, seemingly eager and helpful, but each time, A’Zhi had declined.

“It’s not that I’m hoarding the work,” A’Zhi said seriously. “It’s that this banquet cannot afford a single mistake. If we start dividing up the tasks and something minor goes wrong tomorrow, who do you think will take the blame?”

Cui Cui blinked. “Well, naturally, it will be the person who made the mistake.”

“Wrong,” A’Zhi replied. “The young Princess is the host. No matter who messes up, it’s her reputation that suffers.”

No one would remember the name of a careless servant, but everyone would remember that it happened at Chao Mu’s banquet.

This was her first event after returning to the capital. The guest list was filled with the daughters of prominent families. Absolutely nothing could go wrong.

“The only way to prevent others from taking advantage is to keep everything firmly under our control,” A’Zhi said.

Cui Cui suddenly understood. This was a lesson.

“There’s more for you to learn,” A’Zhi continued. “Including how to organize a banquet. I’m walking you through every detail this time. Next time, if it’s your turn to become the head maid, you’ll need to know how to handle it.”

“You’re teasing me now. There can only be one head maid per courtyard,” Cui Cui replied with a grin, her eyes squinting into little crescents. “I’m not going to fight you for it.”

A’Zhi glanced at her. This girl has no ambition, she thought. She needs to broaden her horizons. There are more positions in this household than just head maid.

And who said she had to fight with her? If Cui Cui wanted to be the head maid, A’Zhi could always “settle” for becoming a house steward and enjoy the perks.

But she kept those thoughts to herself, and the two of them moved on to oversee other matters.

While the entire household was buzzing with activity for the banquet, only Zhi Yuan and his small group of close aides remained idle.

No one could figure out how A’Zhi had managed to immediately spot them as the steward’s confidants, but she did refuse to assign them a single task.

Steward Qi had ordered them to sabotage the preparations, but now they couldn’t even get involved, let alone ruin anything.

The others turned to Zhi Yuan. “What do we do now?”

There was nothing they could get their hands on.

Zhi Yuan was equally frustrated. He was new to the estate and had never witnessed a banquet here before; he didn’t even know where to begin.

In the end, he had no choice but to ask Steward Qi for help.

“Godfather, that maid is sharp. She keeps everything under her control and won’t give us any openings.”

Qi hadn’t expected that A’Zhi, despite her young age, would be so vigilant and meticulous.

As he flipped through the account book in his hand, heart aching at the missed opportunities for embezzlement, he told Zhi Yuan, “She’s tough, but there are always those with softer hearts.”

Zhi Yuan looked confused. Qi sighed and spelled it out.

“Remember those two maids who got punished and sent to do laundry in the rear courtyard? One of them is Xiao Que.”

“She used to serve in the study of the young master from the Liang family. She’s not cut out for hard labor.”

Qi Shilei smiled. “Give her a chance. Let her cry in front of the princess. Our little lady has a soft heart and can’t stand to see people cry. She might just let the girl return to serve in the front hall.”

“And as for the guest list…” he drawled thoughtfully, “I remember seeing the name of the young lady from the Liang family, the sister of that same young master.”

Xiao Que probably dreamed of returning to the Liang household as a concubine. If she were to suddenly see someone from that family during the banquet, who knows how she might react?

It would be quite a spectacle, like a reunion of long-lost relatives.

Zhi Yuan lit up.

A’Zhi might be watching them closely, but she wouldn’t be suspicious of the princess herself. If the princess was the one who allowed Xiao Que in, what would happen if something went wrong? It would reflect poorly on both the master and the maid.

Zhi Yuan hurried off to make arrangements, while Steward Qi sat by the window, flipping through the accounts again and again under the light.

There was a lot of profit to be made from this banquet. He’d really thrown away a juicy opportunity just to put a little maid in her place.

He consoled himself with a grimace: Fine. Think of it as lacing the meat with poison and feeding it to a dog. As long as the dog dies, it’ll be worth it.