Chapter 593 - 371: Gift
Mu Qing returned quickly and whispered, "My Lady, the Emperor is at Yaohua Palace right now."
An Shutong wasn’t surprised in the least. She nodded lightly and said, "Then I can’t go over today."
"My Lady..." Mu Qing didn’t quite understand her mistress. The Emperor was at Yaohua Palace. Wasn’t this the perfect time to go pay her respects?
An Shutong waved her hand dismissively. "You don’t understand."
Mu Qing truly didn’t understand. ’But isn’t Ming Fei being too possessive, monopolizing the Emperor like this?’ she thought. ’There are so many women in the harem. Does she expect everyone else to sleep in an empty bed?’
An Shutong took out the needlework she had been occupied with earlier. It was a child’s outer garment, covered in fine, dense stitches. The embroidered tiger heads were incredibly lifelike.
Seeing her mistress resume her needlework, Mu Qing’s heart ached for her. The embroidery on this tiger-head garment was difficult, especially with the dozens of tiger heads on the front and back, which made it extremely time-consuming.
Mu Qing quietly slipped out and stood dazed under the eaves of the corridor.
Yingxue walked over, saw her expression, and asked, "What’s wrong with you now?"
Mu Qing said dejectedly, "Our lady is embroidering clothes again. I just feel it’s probably pointless."
Seeing Mu Qing like this, Yingxue, who had been on her way into the hall, paused. She pulled her into the small tea room, closed the door, and whispered, "What nonsense are you spouting? Don’t you ever say things like that again."
"But isn’t it the truth? Even if our lady does manage to give it to the Eldest Prince, I doubt Lady Ming will appreciate it. And even if she does, she might not help our lady out," Mu Qing said, growing more disheartened as she spoke.
Yingxue frowned. "Our lady is embroidering the garment for the Eldest Prince simply as a gesture of goodwill. You shouldn’t overthink it."
Mu Qing furrowed her brow. "How am I overthinking? It’s obvious that..."
"Just be quiet! Don’t cause trouble for our lady," Yingxue said hurriedly. She knew what Mu Qing meant, but what could be done? Ming Fei had given birth to the Eldest Prince, and now the Emperor only had eyes for her. ’Besides,’ she thought, ’because of the Empress Dowager, the Emperor probably has his own reservations about our lady. There’s nothing to be done about it.’
Mu Qing grew even more crestfallen. "Yingxue, do you really think there’s no way?"
Yingxue shook her head. "Who can say? We just need to do our duties well and, most importantly, not cause trouble for our lady. Lady Ming is not a merciful person. If we fall into her hands, our worthless lives don’t matter, but I’m afraid we’ll drag our lady down with us. Do you understand?"
Startled by Yingxue’s stern tone, Mu Qing quickly nodded. "I know. I just feel it’s unfair to our lady, but I would never dare show it outside."
"Just remember that." Yingxue pursed her lips. "Don’t you see the situation in the palace now? Our lady has no opportunity to get ahead. All we can do is wait."
Wait?
Wait until when?
Who knew? They would probably have to wait until Ming Fei fell from favor. But how long would that take?
That was even more unknowable.
That woman had been favored ever since she entered the palace, for three or four years now, and showed no sign of losing that favor.
Enduring like this was utterly draining.
Song Yunzhao was unaware of the events at Huayang Palace. She watched Feng Yi play with Feng Ze in the courtyard. Feng Ze was speaking quite fluently now, his mouth chattering away without a moment’s rest.
She wasn’t a talkative person, and neither was Feng Yi. She had no idea how they’d produced such a chatterbox for a son.
He now loved listening to stories and refused to sleep at night until someone read a passage to him. For this reason, Feng Yi had specially chosen a literate eunuch with a pleasant voice whose sole job was to read to the boy. Only the Royal Family could afford such an extravagance; who else would hire someone just to read stories?
As evening fell, the father and son came inside, both covered in sweat. Song Yunzhao sent the nanny to take Feng Ze for a bath. She had also arranged for hot water to be prepared for Feng Yi, who went to the washroom without needing to be prompted.
By the time the two had finished bathing and returned, dinner was already served. They had little appetite in the summer heat, so the meal was light. There was a meatball soup that Feng Ze had taken a liking to recently. He always had to eat a few meatballs first, followed by half a bowl of the broth.
The meatballs were mixed with minced shrimp, making them savory and refreshing. Yun Zhao enjoyed them as well.
Seeing the mother and son eating with such enjoyment, Feng Yi had a small bowl himself.
After dinner, Feng Ze grabbed Yun Zhao’s hand, and they sat down on the large daybed. The two of them started playing their idiom chain game again. Song Yunzhao felt that all the idioms she had ever learned in her life had culminated in this one shining moment.
Feng Ze couldn’t read, but he had an excellent memory. He could remember the phrases Yun Zhao recited to him after hearing them only once or twice. After half a month of this, Yun Zhao’s own repertoire of idioms was running low, so she had no choice but to push Feng Yi forward to take her place.
Feng Yi was more than happy to play this kind of game with his son. He thought Yun Zhao’s method of learning was excellent—it was fun and helped with memorization, preventing the child from developing an aversion to studying.
Song Yunzhao maintained her smile. ’I can’t very well admit I only came up with it to keep the little rascal busy and stop him from pestering me all day.’
The father and son played for half an hour before Feng Ze started to get drowsy. He hadn’t taken a nap that afternoon. Feng Yi picked up his son and carried him to the side hall. Nanny Qi received the Eldest Prince, bowed, and withdrew.
When Feng Yi returned, he saw Yun Zhao doing needlework. He walked over, sat down beside her, and asked, "What are you making?"
"Socks," Song Yunzhao replied.
Feng Yi looked at the size, held out his hand to compare, and then said, "For me?"
’Well, this is a pleasant surprise,’ he thought. ’The first time she’s ever made socks for me.’
Song Yunzhao nodded. "Yes. I made a few pairs for Feng Ze before, and I think my skills are decent enough now."
’Socks from this era are quite simple to make,’ she mused. ’Not like the fancy, elastic ones from modern times. You just cut out the shape, add a sole, and finish the opening.’
Yun Zhao’s embroidery skills weren’t the best, but they were passable. For her son, she had embroidered various simplified little animals.
Now that she was making a pair for Feng Yi, she put in a little more effort. She didn’t bother with the body of the sock—the Emperor’s socks were disposable, so it wasn’t worth her time and thread. Instead, she embroidered a thumb-width band of small patterns around the cuff, giving them a touch of elegance amidst their simplicity.
Feng Yi watched as she embroidered the pattern stitch by stitch. "You don’t have to go to all this trouble," he said softly. "Your neck will get sore again if you keep your head down for too long. The Clothing Bureau can handle this."
"What they make is one thing, but this is a token of my affection," Song Yunzhao said with a smile. "Besides, it’s not like I do this every day. There’s no way I’d spend all my time making socks for you."
Feng Yi laughed as well. "So, I have our son to thank for this, then."
"Not exactly. I haven’t done this sort of thing in years, so I just used him for practice first."
Amused, Feng Yi picked up a book and sat beside her, keeping her company while she worked.
The room gradually fell silent. Yun Zhao finished the cuff of one sock, held it up to the lamplight to inspect it, and nodded in satisfaction. ’Not bad at all.’
Feng Yi glanced up at her, just in time to catch her small, proud expression.
Song Yunzhao wasn’t the least bit embarrassed. She had, after all, made it with her own two hands, stitch by stitch.
’Being an embroideress is hard work.’
The other sock wasn’t finished yet, but Yun Zhao didn’t plan on staying up late tonight. Just as she was putting her things away, she heard Feng Yi say, "Tomorrow, I’ll take you out of the palace for a bit. Would you like to go?"