A Maid Dressed As A Cannon Fodder Female Supporting Role (Transmigration) - Chapter 16

A heavy snowfall had fallen overnight. That morning, a thick layer of snow covered the red lanterns hanging in the courtyard, making them look like ripe persimmons after a snowstorm, festive and auspicious from afar.

Once the sweeping of the courtyard was done, pots of decorative flowers were brought out. Though it was midwinter and snow still clung to the eaves, the place now held a touch of spring’s vitality.

Such was the power of wealth.

The gates of the Qi residence were opened to receive guests. Chao Mu stood at the entrance of the main hall, A’Zhi by her side, both waiting to welcome the noble young ladies who would soon arrive.

A’Zhi glanced at Chao Mu once, then looked again.

The young mistress, who usually favored pinks and reds, had chosen a simple and subdued outfit today. It was elegant, yes, but hardly eye-catching.

As the host of the gathering, it was customary to dress more elaborately, not to overshadow the guests, but at least to be easily spotted in a crowd.

Yet Chao Mu had chosen the opposite. She looked more like a guest attending someone else’s banquet than the host herself, with no intention of stealing the spotlight.

A’Zhi’s confusion was practically written on her face.

Chao Mu turned to glance at her and gave a soft “Oh,” her moist apricot eyes full of understanding. “A’Zhi doesn’t like my outfit today.”

A’Zhi immediately lowered her eyes and gave a respectful bow. “Whatever the young mistress wears looks lovely. This one isn’t displeased. I am just not used to it. You rarely wear such colors.”

“I know it’s a bit plain,” Chao Mu said, lifting her hand to glance down at her gown. Although the color of the gown was light, its detailing and craftsmanship were impeccable. “But that’s because I’m not the one meant to stand out today.”

A’Zhi blinked, confused. “…?”

Chao Mu imitated A’Zhi’s composed manner, clasping her hands at her waist, her dimples faint as she smiled sweetly. “Remember to enjoy the show later.”

“Oh, and A’Zhi,” she added, turning back with a wink that sparkled with mischief, “I’ve arranged a little trouble for you. Not too big, not too small.”

A’Zhi instantly straightened her back. “!!!”

She’d been ambushed!

But the young mistress’s playful wink made A’Zhi suddenly feel that the pale yellow ruqun she wore looked… quite nice.

The goose-yellow color made Little Sweetcake seem innocent and spirited, like a girl untouched by the harshness of the world, completely unlike a soon-to-be-married noble lady, the future Sixth Princess.

She looked more like a sprite than a royal.

A sprite with hidden black wings.

Since waking that morning, Princess Fu Jia was still sweet and endearing, but the clinginess of the previous night had vanished.

A’Zhi was already trying to guess what sort of “trouble” had been arranged when she spotted someone unexpected among the maidservants bustling around—the girl named Xiao Que, who was supposed to be in the back courtyard doing laundry.

A’Zhi narrowed her eyes. “…”

She stared at Chao Mu with a quiet intensity.

Chao Mu, clearly guilty, looked up and pointed at the sky. “A’Zhi, look! The sunlight.”

A’Zhi didn’t want to look.

Xiao Que, like Xiao Yan, wasn’t the obedient type. Xiao Yan was brash; Xiao Que was arrogant. Neither were suited for serving in the front courtyard. A’Zhi had only just managed to send them both to the backyard, and peace had barely lasted a few days yet now, Chao Mu had brought one back?

Clearly aware of A’Zhi’s gaze, Xiao Que narrowed her eyes. Hmph. Petty maid.

If the steward hadn’t pleaded on her behalf, she’d still be stuck in the rear courtyard doing laundry with Xiao Yan.

Xiao Que felt bitter just thinking about it. Her delicate hands had only ever held ink stones—never once a washtub or laundry mallet. In just a few days, her hands were red and purple from the cold and when she slowed down to care for them, the stewardess scolded her for laziness.

“Born with a lowly life and still wanting a master’s treatment,” they’d said.

Not a single day had passed in the rear courtyard that she didn’t curse A’Zhi and long for her days at the Duke’s household. If she could, she would serve in the Duke’s study forever without daring again to seek a higher status.

But she was only back here because the steward had taken pity on her. There was no way she’d ever return to the Liang household.

Now Xiao Que stood with her head bowed, but her eyes darted left and right in curiosity. She was still curious about today’s guests.

“Miss…” Under the eaves of the main hall, A’Zhi began to speak but quickly swallowed the words and pressed her lips together. It wasn’t appropriate.

In the past few days, A’Zhi had come to understand that Chao Mu was not someone who softened easily without reason. She must have had her own reasons and goals for bringing Xiao Que back.

But this clearly hadn’t happened just this morning, yet Chao Mu hadn’t mentioned it once.

A’Zhi was a maid, and Chao Mu was her mistress. If she gave the order, A’Zhi would never disobey.

Still, the young mistress had said nothing. It felt like a slap in the face to her, the head maid.

It wasn’t arrogance that made A’Zhi feel this way. It was because it had been her decision to punish Xiao Que and Xiao Yan, and now one of them had been brought back without her knowledge. That was no different from undermining her.

She had thought that her relationship with Little Sweetcake was something special… but a mistress was still a mistress, and a mistress didn’t need to explain herself to a maid.

She had made similar impersonal decisions many times before. But this was the first time she was on the receiving end of one.

Chao Mu had treated her like a friend and an equal, without realizing it, A’Zhi had come to believe that she really was different.

At least, until this moment.

In the end, she had overstepped. She had forgotten her place.

A’Zhi took a deep breath of the chilly winter air, pressing down the inexplicable feelings that had risen in her chest. She put on her usual smile, her posture perfect and her expression faultless.

At that moment, Cui Cui hurried through the circular gate and bowed toward the main hall. “Your Grace, the guests have arrived.”

Chao Mu’s smile returned as she turned toward A’Zhi. “A’Zhi? A’Zhi?”

Tilting her head slightly, her eyes full of quiet confusion, she pursed her pink lips. “You’re upset, aren’t you?”

A’Zhi gave a flawless bow, still smiling. “Why would you think that, my lady? I’m not upset at all.”

“But you—” Chao Mu frowned slightly, as if she wanted to say something more, but someone had already approached. She could only close her mouth and look away.

Receiving guests at home was a subtle art, especially at the Qi residence.

This was Chao Mu’s first time hosting a gathering in the capital. Many of the young noblewomen who received invitations were confused:

Why would the young mistress invite me? Does she want to form connections or just admire the snow?

Naturally, thoughts turned to the imperial family, the Noble Consort, the Sixth Prince, and the Qi family’s current status at court. All these had to be considered before deciding how to attend—whether to show deference, maintain distance, or proceed with caution.

Even the timing of arrival mattered.

Those eager to curry favor would arrive early to show friendliness.

Those of higher status might arrive a bit later to differentiate themselves.

And those whose positions were neither high nor low, and who weren’t sure whether befriending the host would help or hurt them, would try to arrive neither too early nor too late—to stay unnoticed.

After all, Chao Mu hadn’t just invited people from the Noble Consort’s faction—she had also sent invitations to girls whose fathers supported other princes.

This left many wondering: Is this really her idea? Or the Noble Consort’s? Is she probing our loyalties or declaring her stance?

Chao Mu had been promised to marry the Sixth Prince since birth. Naturally placing her in his camp.

In many ways, the social battlefield of the inner courtyard was no less treacherous than war.

As the sound of approaching footsteps grew louder, A’Zhi saw several elegantly dressed girls walking in side by side, likely having met at the entrance.

Chao Mu stepped down two steps and greeted them from the last one, taking their hands and speaking softly.

The girls, who had initially seemed a bit stiff, gradually relaxed when they realized Chao Mu had a gentle temper.

Inside the warm pavilion, refreshments had already been set out. It was much cozier than outside, and after the formal greetings, the girls were led there by the maids.

Chao Mu remained at the entrance to greet the next group.

One by one, the guests arrived. A’Zhi didn’t recognize many of them until a familiar name caught her ear.

Chen Yue.

Her full name meant “sinking fish and falling geese; flowers ashamed, the moon hidden” and she was said to be the secret crush of the Sixth Prince during his studies at the Imperial Academy.

A’Zhi lifted her gaze and spotted her at once among a trio of young ladies.

Chen Yue stood in the center, dressed in a vivid pink gown.

Whether it was snowy winter or blooming spring, that pink demanded attention. One might have thought she was the hostess of the event.

And it wasn’t just the outfit. She was stunning and more mature-looking than the still-slightly-baby-faced Chao Mu. Though half a year younger, Chen Yue looked like a flower on the verge of full bloom, her peach blossom eyes brimming with alluring charm.

A beauty beyond her years.

Very few knew about her relationship with the Sixth Prince. He had gone to great lengths to protect her reputation, keeping their closeness a secret. Chen Yue, knowing full well that the Sixth Prince was already engaged, still half-accepted and half-resisted his advances, staying just within the bounds of propriety.

In just four days, Chao Mu would be entering the Imperial Academy.

By then, Chen Yue had already exchanged poems with her fiancé under plum blossoms in the snow.

Now here she was wearing pink and coming to the very fiancée’s banquet.

A’Zhi’s back straightened unconsciously. She couldn’t shake the feeling that this was a deliberate provocation.

So this was the “show” the young mistress had told her to watch?

Then that yellow dress of hers was terribly appropriate after all. Chao Mu should’ve worn green for rivalry.