Dragging a straw mat to the palace gate, Jing Wan'er flashed the sign in her hand: "Palace Corpse Collection Room – Corpse Processing."
Two gate officers glanced at the rolled-up mat on the ground and, with cold expressions, commanded, "Unroll the mat and show us what's inside."
Without offering any explanation, Jing Wan'er bent down and unceremoniously untied the rope lacing the mat. In an instant, the mat spread out to both sides.
Revealed beneath was a woman dressed in a palace maid's uniform, her face turned downward and hidden by her hair, her body drenched in blood and exuding the stench of decay. Once the covering was lifted, the corpse's pallid face and lifeless body were unmistakable.
The two gate officers immediately clutched their noses in disgust and, waving their hands dismissively, ordered, "Hurry, drag it away! Drag it away!"
They were the very people who came to inspect it—and now, as if struck by bad luck, they avoided it at all costs.
A slight curl touched Jing Wan'er's lips as she squatted and re-tied the mat. With one hand gripping the other end of the rope, she hauled the "corpse" out of the palace gate. This time, the two gate guards even deliberately kept their distance, determined not to let themselves be tainted by the misfortune of the dead.
Jing Wan'er slowly dragged the mat along. After walking for a long while, she looked back, watching the palace gate recede farther and farther into the distance.
They say that once you enter the palace, it's as deep as an endless sea. Every day inside, someone dies; those bodies that are never claimed by their families are hauled away by lowly palace maids like Jing Wan'er—maids relegated to the odd-job quarters—to be burned. The bodies are taken to the "chaotic graveyard" just outside the Xuanwu Gate.
––––
Casually, Jing Wan'er looked at the mat again, reached out, and untied it once more. Then, fixing her gaze on the "corpse" of the palace maid, she pulled a silver needle from her hair.
She plunged the silver needle into the "corpse's" neck. At once, the body twitched and, moments later, its eyes slowly opened.
"Rise—it has arrived," Jing Wan'er said coolly.
The palace maid, upon opening her eyes, sprang upright from the mat. When she realized that she was completely intact, tears suddenly welled up in her eyes. Then, staring intently at Jing Wan'er, she abruptly dropped to her knees and began kowtowing with thumping head-nods, "Thank you! Thank you for saving my life! I promise that in my next life, I'll repay your kindness—even if I have to serve as a beast of burden!"
Jing Wan'er regarded her silently. Entering the palace meant that a maid was doomed never to leave for a lifetime—except, that is, for those who are "dead."
In truth, this wasn't the first time Jing Wan'er had pulled off such a rescue. Time and again, she had helped death-row palace maids clandestinely escape the palace, offering them another chance at life.
"Don't bother about working like a slave—as long as you remember the promise you made to me," Jing Wan'er said coolly.
The palace maid paused for a moment before fixing her eyes on Jing Wan'er and replying, "Rest assured, I will never forget."
This maid had served in Lady Ji Jieyu's retinue. A short while ago, for offending the new favorite, she had been condemned directly to the hard labor cells to await death. Yet, being resourceful as she was, she had somehow, through a tip from someone, found Jing Wan'er.
Jing Wan'er slid the silver needle back into her hair and then pointed in a direction. "Wait here until nightfall. When the sun sets, scale the palace wall along the south side and slip into the night market. There is a curfew at night—if you can hold out until dawn, you'll be safe."
A look of yearning appeared in the maid's eyes. After all, it's better to cling to life than to court a good death—no one wants to die easily. With hope for life now glimmering before her, she once more kowtowed deeply and said, "I shall never forget your mercy."
After nightfall, no one dared approach the ramshackle graveyard—who would have the nerve? That is why this place was the safest. For the palace maid, the promise of freedom was so tempting that not only could she hide here until daylight, but even if she stayed for a few extra days or nights, what was there to fear?
Having settled the maid, Jing Wan'er, dragging her now-empty mat, returned to the Xuanwu Gate. The two gate officers, their faces contorted in disgust, allowed her entry without further questioning.
Jing Wan'er was long accustomed to such looks of disdain and insult; over the years, they had become as routine as drinking water.
Back in the courtyard, she patted down her clothes, tossed the mat into the storeroom, and locked the door.
Inside, pine resin was lit. After a full night of fumigation, the stench of decay would dissipate.
If anyone were to enter the palace and start handling corpses as Jing Wan'er did, they would eventually learn their own methods.
Jing Wan'er then returned to the maid's lodging. As soon as she stepped in, she saw that the bedding on the bed was in disarray. When she reached out to touch it, the blanket was damp—clearly unsuitable for sleep.
She turned to the nearby palace maids, who were feigning innocence, and asked, "Who did this?"
No one answered. One even rolled her eyes.
Handling corpses made Jing Wan'er the most despised among them—even lower in status than the one who cleaned the latrines.
Where there were many women, trouble was never far behind. Jing Wan'er strode toward the group. As soon as the palace maids saw her, they scattered as if swatting away flies, exclaiming, "What do you want? Don't stir up trouble!"
"I haven't stirred up anything—I've been working all day, and now it's time for sleep," Jing Wan'er replied evenly.
In a flash, she reached out and grabbed one of the maids, who immediately scrambled sideways in panic. A wry smile crossed Jing Wan'er's face as her hand did not falter; even after the maid dodged, Jing Wan'er seized the blanket draped behind her and tugged it hard into her arms.
Clutching the blanket, she headed for her own bed. With a swift motion, she yanked the already-soaked blanket from the bed and threw it onto the floor.
The maid whose blanket had been snatched shrieked, "Give me back my blanket!"
She lunged at Jing Wan'er, but with a cold turn, Jing Wan'er froze her in place.
"I've just returned from handling corpses—I haven't even washed yet. Think carefully about whether you really want the blanket back," Jing Wan'er warned.
Those words struck where it hurt. None of the other palace maids in the room dared even approach Jing Wan'er afterward. The offending maid's face flushed with a mix of shame and anger as she glared at the blanket clutched tightly in Jing Wan'er's arms—both disgusted and unwilling.
Jing Wan'er smiled inwardly and slowly spread the blanket over her bed. This particular maid was the one most determined to pick a fight with her; even if the blanket had gotten wet accidentally today, it would still be her fault. One must always expect to reap the bitter fruit of one's own actions.
Sitting by her bed, Jing Wan'er eyed the damp blanket on the floor and said, "Looks like tonight, you'll have to make do with this one blanket."
The maid gritted her teeth furiously, "Jing Wan'er, don't push people too far!"
Who, indeed, was the one pushing too far? Jing Wan'er merely shifted her gaze.
The maid stomped her foot in irritation, "Do you think I won't tell Liang Shangong? You had better not get too cocky—you'll be booted out of the odd-job quarters before long..."
Jing Wan'er interrupted coolly, "Booted out of the odd-job quarters? Really? As it is, I'm the only one in the odd-job quarters responsible for handling corpses. If I get kicked out, who among you will take my place? You?"
Those words hit harder than any before; the other three palace maids in the room paled instantly.
One older maid rushed over and grabbed the offending one, "Alright, Qiao'er, we're all under the same roof—let's not make a scene."
Qiao'er trembled with anger, "On what grounds? Didn't you see her snatch my blanket?!"
On such a freezing night, without a blanket—does she expect to freeze to death?! Of course she wouldn't own up; after all, she had been the one to provoke Jing Wan'er in the first place to end up like this.
Another maid tried to smooth things over with a conciliatory smile, "Alright, tonight you can squeeze in with me. Tomorrow we'll just take the blanket out to dry."
Qiao'er felt deeply aggrieved, but with Jing Wan'er already sleeping so openly on that blanket, she simply didn't have the guts to reclaim it.
Finally, after a mix of genuine and forced persuasion from several palace maids, Qiao'er gritted her teeth and swallowed her anger—though in her heart she vowed, "Jing Wan'er, you bitch, just wait!"
Even though everyone knew that crossing swords with Jing Wan'er would never yield any benefit, these palace maids continually devised fresh schemes to mess with her—perhaps stemming from an inner loathing for that uncouth "freak" who always kept a calm face even when surrounded by the dead.
Jing Wan'er knew they all regarded her as a weirdo, yet she cared not; indeed, she derived a certain pleasure from seeing the look of disgust and fear on their faces. After all, only those with a guilty conscience truly fear life and death. In the palace, who among the maids did not have a secret guilt?
After a good rest to shake off her fatigue, Jing Wan'er was summoned by Liang Shangong the next day.
Liang Shangong sat on her couch—two maids massaging her legs—and in the odd-job quarters, she reigned supreme; no one dared contradict her.
"Yesterday, a corpse was delivered from the execution grounds and dragged into your yard. See that it's disposed of properly—burn it cleanly away," Liang Shangong said as she raised her sharply set brows and glared at Jing Wan'er.
Her specific instruction meant that the corpse must be burned in one fire until not even bone fragments remained—the cleanest method possible.
Jing Wan'er replied impassively, "Your servant understands."
After a long moment, Liang Shangong's dark eyes softened slightly as she said, "Go then. This time, Qiao'er will work with you."
Jing Wan'er was momentarily taken aback—Qiao'er would be assisting her?
But before she could question Liang Shangong further, the latter coldly added, "Didn't you hear me when I told you to go out?"
Lowering her eyes, Jing Wan'er murmured, "Yes."
Back in the yard, she saw Qiao'er staring at her with a frosty expression.
Jing Wan'er readily guessed that Liang Shangong had informed Qiao'er about today's corpse disposal job. Qiao'er, unwilling to defy Liang Shangong, could only harbor even deeper resentment toward Jing Wan'er.
"You bitch, you freak—did you say something behind Shangong's back…" Qiao'er began cursing.
As usual, Jing Wan'er paid her no mind. In fact, she was more curious than ever about what was different with today's corpse.
For the first time in two years, besides her, Liang Shangong had sent two people to handle the corpse. Previously, when there had been an especially large corpse that Jing Wan'er couldn't move alone, Liang Shangong had never assigned anyone else.
And now it was Qiao'er—does she even deserve to be called capable? She only ever proved her ability when hatching vicious plots against Jing Wan'er.
It must be because of that infamous grudge that they paired Qiao'er with her… perhaps to keep an eye on her.
Jing Wan'er suddenly realized something. Liang Shangong's insistence that the corpse be "burned cleanly" now seemed to have an ulterior motive. Her heart stirred as she began to speculate about the true identity of that corpse.