After Juan’er and her group finished cleaning the kitchen, they were assigned other tasks. Juan’er and her friend Xiu’er were tasked with delivering charcoal.
In winter, every room relied on charcoal fires for warmth, and they were responsible for delivering three days’ worth of charcoal to each room.
The two girls collected the charcoal from the storehouse, loaded it into baskets, and began delivering it room by room.
“Ouch!”
Halfway through, as they neared Concubine Hua’er’s courtyard, Xiu’er passed a flowerbed and something struck her knee. She slipped, let out a cry, and crashed into the flowerbed.
In the freezing cold, the bricks were unforgivingly hard. The impact was severe, and blood gushed from Xiu’er’s shin, soaking through her cotton trousers.
“It hurts,” Xiu’er whimpered, tears streaming down her face.
“Xiu’er, hurry back and treat the wound. Apply some medicine, or it’ll scar!” Juan’er said, full of concern.
“But we haven’t finished delivering the charcoal,” Xiu’er sobbed, worried.
“Don’t worry, Xiu’er. I’ll help you back, and you rest in your room. I’ll deliver the rest of the charcoal myself. I’ve done heavy work since I was little—I’m strong! There’s only half a basket left; I can manage,” Juan’er said confidently, patting her chest. She lifted the basket to show she could handle it alone.
“Are you sure?” Xiu’er hesitated.
“Absolutely! Trust me, I’ll get it all delivered on time,” Juan’er said, thumping her chest.
“Thank you, Juan’er. You don’t need to escort me—I can walk back myself,” Xiu’er said gratefully.
So, Xiu’er limped back to tend to her wound, while Juan’er carried the basket alone to continue the deliveries.
Though Juan’er was small, she was surprisingly strong, carrying the half-basket of charcoal with ease. But her memory wasn’t as sharp—she forgot Concubine Hua’er’s nearby courtyard and delivered to all the other rooms in the back courtyard first. Only at the end did she realise she’d missed Hua’er’s courtyard. Hurriedly, she carried the basket there.
The courtyard was quiet. Juan’er entered, closed the gate behind her, and tiptoed inside with the basket.
All the rooms were silent, except for some noise from the side chamber.
Juan’er gently set down the basket and crept toward the chamber. Crouching, she peered through the window.
Inside, the first-class maid who had earlier demanded fine wine and food from the kitchen was sitting boldly at a table, one foot propped on a chair, her back to the door, eating and drinking.
Sipping alone.
*The Ming’s wine is so fragrant—far better than the sake or shochu back home. No wonder the lord has always wanted to conquer the Ming’s Jiangnan.*
*This place has too many fine things. These people don’t deserve such a land or such treasures.*
Juan’er crouched lower, pulling a dagger from her ankle. Moving like a cat, silent and stealthy, she crept toward the door.
“This twenty-year Daughter Red is so much better than the ten-year stuff. *Hic*—delicious, especially with these side dishes. Simply divine. *Hic*—another glass. Can’t waste such fine wine,” the first-class maid muttered to herself, belching as she ate and drank, lost in her enjoyment.
After muttering, she poured herself another glass, picked up some food, and downed it in one gulp.
Then, she poured yet another glass. “Looking forward to tomorrow’s braised shark fin. Stewed with chicken broth, it’s soft yet crisp, so savoury—perfect with rice. I’ll need two bowls of rice and more wine.”
In just a short while, she’d downed three glasses.
*What a drunkard!*
*Heh, look at her—she’s clearly three sheets to the wind. Taking down this little drunkard will be child’s play.*
*From what I’ve gathered, she lives alone in this small courtyard. Deal with her, and no one will notice for a while.*
*Once she’s handled, I’ll swap into her clothes and, under cover of dusk when faces are hard to see, slip into the back courtyard’s study.*
*According to my intel, the target, Zhu Ping’an, works in the study late into the night before retiring.*
*I’ll enter under the pretext of delivering tea. If the target doesn’t suspect me, I’ll serve him poisoned tea and send him to his grave. The poison is…*
*If he does suspect me, no matter. Once I’m in the study, with my skills, killing him will be as easy as slaughtering a chicken.*
*The commotion in the front courtyard earlier—I asked around. It was that pompous Yakushi, botching his attempt. He often poses as a monk to get close to targets, using the guise to lower their guard. Didn’t expect him to fail today. But this is good news. That arrogant fool always acted superior, bragging he’d be the top ninja. Look at him now!*
*Still, thanks to that self-important idiot Yakushi. His failure has surely made the target lower his guard.*
*The Ming always say, “Survive a great calamity, and blessings will follow.” He’s probably smugly awaiting his “blessings.”*
*He’d never expect I’d come to end his life.*
*Heh.*
*I am the lord’s true top ninja.*
Juan’er—no, Yukiko—watched the drinking maid, her lips curling into a cruel, gleeful smile. *Drunkard—no, dead woman—you’ll be the stepping stone for my success.*
*Your greatest value in this life is to have your throat slit by me and offer up your first-class maid’s clothes.*
*Don’t worry, my blade is swift and precise. One cut to sever your throat, and you’ll be gone quickly.*
*Die.*
Yukiko, gripping her dagger, glided silently behind the drinking maid. As the maid reached for more food, Yukiko struck like lightning, her gleaming blade flashing toward the maid’s pale neck.
*Such a white neck. One slash, and it’ll bleed a lot. But no worries—I’ll cover your mouth as I lay you down, ensuring not a drop stains your clothes.*
*Not a single drop.*
Yukiko was brimming with confidence.
Her dagger sliced toward the maid’s neck like a bolt of lightning. Yukiko could almost smell the blood. But in the next instant, the maid’s chopsticks, mid-motion to pick up food, flipped backward, intercepting Yukiko’s lightning-fast dagger with pinpoint precision.
Her dagger was like a pitiful sparrow caught in an eagle’s beak, unable to move an inch.
*Nani?!*
Yukiko’s eyes widened in disbelief.
“*Heh*, dawdling and hesitating—do you even know how to assassinate?” the maid turned, her face full of mockery as she asked.
