After Becoming the Cannon Fodder Live-in Spouse A (GL) - Chapter 5: The Fifth Day

Chapter 5: The Fifth Day

The water in the copper basin, the deep red on the cloth, Ye Fuguang’s disheveled clothes, her obvious exhaustion from staying up all night, and the messy traces of the tray items sent by the palace maids—

Everything pointed to one thing.

Last night was an unimaginable night of suffering for the prince.

Yu Qing was Zhongjun and usually left the prince’s personal care to the two Dikun maids, so she hadn’t seen any marks on the prince’s body earlier.

But did she need to see them with her own eyes?

Yu Qing’s face turned ashen with anger at the imagined scene. If this marriage hadn’t been decreed by the Emperor, making Ye Fuguang nominally the highest-ranking woman in Prince Qi’s mansion, she would have had this Ye dragged away for punishment.

A mere low-born Qianyuan, brought in to bring good luck, dared to treat the prince like some frail Dikun and humiliate her. When the prince woke, she would surely deal with this reckless fool harshly!

Seeing Yu Qing’s expression grow uglier, as if she were brewing green bean soup with her face, Ye Fuguang said, “?”

Uncertain, she asked, “There’s no green beans in the mansion either?”

Yu Qing’s face darkened like the bottom of a pot.

She nearly ground her back teeth to dust, refusing to interpret Ye Fuguang’s expression, and spat out through clenched teeth, “Of course there are. Whatever Concubine Ye wants, be it delicacies or treasures, as long as it’s within your monthly stipend, the mansion can provide.”

Ye Fuguang, recalling the absence of bird’s nest porridge earlier, asked without much hope, “Oh, how much is my monthly stipend?”

“Concubine Ye holds the rank of second grade, with a stipend of one hundred taels.”

“…”

Ye Fuguang fell silent for two seconds, barely stopping herself from scooping pigeon soup. “It was windy earlier. How much did you say my stipend was?”

“One hundred taels,” Yu Qing repeated, expressionless.

Slowly, Ye Fuguang recalled that among the few readers like her, who enjoyed the spicy scenes in the novel and dug into the author’s world-building, one long review had analyzed the price levels in the Great Dynasty.

In short—

One hundred taels in the Great Dynasty was worth about sixty to one hundred thirty thousand modern yuan. Taking the middle value, her job as a concubine in the mansion paid ninety-five thousand a month, rounded up to a hundred thousand.

Good heavens, what had she done to deserve this?

Not even graduated, and she was already earning a million a year?!

Ye Fuguang thought, I deserve to die. Last night, she dared to ask Shen Jinglan for extra pay. From now on, Boss Shen was her non-bl00d-related mommy. What was wrong with serving her dutifully at her bedside?

It was her duty!

…

Shocked by the money, Ye Fuguang resolved to earn her hefty salary. After ordering green bean soup, she added, “Before I entered the mansion, the prince had no close attendant, but now that I’m married to her, I should care for her personally. I’ll handle the prince’s lunch.”

Let her do it.

If Yu Qing and the others kept tending to Shen Jinglan, her golden rice bowl might be at risk!

If Shen Jinglan’s internal heat poison was nourished like this, it would be like pouring oil on a fire, endangering her life.

She glanced at the dazzling red walls in the daylight, their colors shifting with intricate patterns. No matter how beautiful, thinking of the materials, she spoke again, “This room seems drafty, and it’s too cold outside. In this freezing weather, I worry about the prince’s health. Why not check other courtyards today? If there’s—”

“No.”

Yu Qing rudely interrupted her.

After speaking, she belatedly gave a quick bow but still stiffly refused, “This is the prince’s main hall. For both propriety and the prince’s health, it’s not suitable to move now. If Concubine Ye doesn’t wish to stay here with the prince, you’re free to go.”

Ye Fuguang: “…”

Tch.

She really wanted to slap a lecture on cinnabar toxicity onto this stubborn steward who seemed to have a strange prejudice against her.

Yu Qing seemed to sense her displeasure, pursed her lips, and glanced outside. “Physician Xue has arrived. If Physician Xue approves moving the prince, the mansion will comply with Concubine Ye’s wishes.”

She left with her people, leaving only two Zhongjun who bowed to Ye Fuguang, introducing themselves as assigned by Steward Yu to serve her, asking for her orders.

Their names were quite festive: Jixiang and Ruyi.

Ye Fuguang smiled at them, watching Physician Xue approach, matching the stereotypical image of an ancient doctor from TV dramas, and began to wonder:

Would he agree to her requests?

A quarter-hour later.

Yong’an Palace.

Golden glazed tiles gleamed in the winter’s faint light, showcasing the palace’s majesty. In Mingde Hall, where the Emperor handled state affairs, he was flipping through memorials. The first was a lengthy greeting, which he tossed aside, picking up a miniature carved garden model from the desk and glancing at the person below:

“From what you say, that little Qianyuan from the Ye family seems rather reckless.”

His voice was cool, with little emotion, leaving the black-armored Imperial Guard commander below unable to guess his thoughts, only bowing lower, not daring to respond.

He was reporting on last night’s events at Prince Qi’s mansion.

After all, it was a marriage granted by the Emperor, and with Prince Qi now comatose, the wedding night lacked joy. A refined Qianyuan from a noble family would never dare to overstep like this.

But the basin and handkerchief carried out by the mansion’s servants that morning couldn’t lie.

Those who saw the traces could guess the intense night in the main hall of Prince Qi’s mansion.

The scent of incense in Mingde Hall, mixed with the Emperor’s unrestrained personal fragrance, filled every corner, the heavy smoke making even Zhongjun who couldn’t smell it faintly sense the Emperor’s authority.

The sleeve of his ornate black dragon robe shifted slightly.

His voice sounded again, casually, “You may leave.”

“Yes.”

“After Physician Xue returns to the palace, summon him to see me.” This was directed to the palace attendants serving him.

…

Xue Congde, head of the Imperial Medical Academy.

He was the physician responsible for diagnosing Prince Qi. Since taking on her case, his daughter, once a mere palace talent, had risen to the rank of Shurong.

He still remembered when Prince Qi was escorted back from Yancheng. Only he, in the entire academy, identified the strange poison in her body. For this alone, the Emperor put him fully in charge of her treatment.

Back then, he knelt in gratitude, trembling, saying he only knew of Western poisons from some old texts he read in youth and feared he couldn’t ease the Emperor’s worries.

The Emperor had dismissed everyone, leaving him alone.

“No need to do anything extra. Just look after Prince Qi. The Great Dynasty cannot lose this war god. Do you understand my meaning?”

Xue Congde hadn’t understood at first.

Until a palace attendant accidentally spilled a furnace while brewing medicine, then used the wrong prescription for the remake. After feeding it to the prince, Xue Congde checked her pulse and knew it was bad.

He thought his entire family would end up at the execution ground.

But when the Emperor learned of it, he only had the attendant dealt with, asked about the effects of the wrong medicine, and gave a meaningful smile.

He didn’t punish Xue Congde.

That night, he even favored a minor talent, Xue’s daughter.

Only then did Xue Congde vaguely grasp what task he’d been given.

The heavy mission aged him day by day. During audiences, he sweated through his clothes after a sentence or two, lay awake at night, but dared not utter a word to anyone.

Today’s audience was no different.

The Emperor, as usual, asked about Prince Qi’s condition.

He chose his words carefully, saying her pulse was weaker than yesterday.

—After being treated like that and losing so much bl00d, it’d be strange if her qi and bl00d weren’t weak.

The Emperor thought as much, then shifted the topic. “Have you seen that side concubine of Prince Qi?”

Xue Congde’s mind raced. “While checking the prince’s pulse, Concubine Ye stood by.”

“Oh?”

That single word made him tremble, frantically recalling details of his interaction with the concubine. After a pause, he managed, “The concubine seems fond of alchemy and discussed cinnabar’s effects with me.”

The Emperor gave a light laugh. “Is that so?”

He seemed to see through Xue Congde’s discomfort but didn’t press further, saying lazily, “I understand.”

From what Xue Congde said—

His sister’s body was remarkably resilient. Despite such poison, she endured a Qianyuan’s torment all night without serious harm.

When outrageous rumors reached the palace.

Ye Fuguang also heard some odd advice from Jixiang and Ruyi.

Knowing Steward Yu was in a bad mood today and seeing Concubine Ye didn’t seem hard to deal with, they tried urging her to be gentler with the prince.

“?”

Having just learned from Physician Xue that cinnabar could detoxify, Ye Fuguang felt a bit numb, realizing she couldn’t count on the physician to help move Prince Qi. As she wondered if she’d be stuck here acting as a human air purifier for Shen Jinglan, she heard their advice.

She paced the room a few times, finally stopping before the extravagantly spacious bed in the inner chamber. College student Ye rubbed her chin, seemingly struck by an idea, and asked knowingly, “Gentler, what does that mean?”

The two maids exchanged a glance.

They gave her a “you know” look.

Ye Fuguang smiled.

That night.

A loud crash echoed from the main hall of Prince Qi’s mansion!

The Imperial Guards jumped, nearly drawing their swords to rush in, and the gatehouse lanterns lit up one by one.

But then Ye Fuguang, clothes disheveled and sweating, hurriedly opened the door, straightening her attire. “Don’t come in. The prince is fine.”

She brushed back her messy hair, half a sleeve’s worth of effort, and said sheepishly, “Blame the poor quality of this mansion’s bed.”

She added, “I was already very gentle—”

“But the bed still collapsed.”

The Imperial Guards: “?!”

Yu Qing, rushing over, nearly fainted from holding her breath!